There's No Such Thing as a Happy Ending
by M. Sarah C
Summary: Frisk was torn. Pacifist, of course, was the 'happy ending' and yet, Genocide, it was so... intoxicating. Yes, she would admit. She was addicted. (Warning: Torture, Disturbing Content, And implied sexual abuse) Art Cover belongs to Mira the Magic Wolf 2nd Place winner Eevee Drop the Depressed Bean #rd Place winner SkipperScores
1. The Choices We Make

Frisk snuggled into the blue jacket. She liked it. It was soft and warm. Although she preferred it better in blood. Of course, she'd never say it aloud. Her and Sans were napping on the couch, a good pastime for the peaceful yet exciting Neutral Run. She breathed and looked up. Sans' heavy eyelids were closed, and his breathing was steady and deep. He was _finally_ asleep. Odd, how he seemed to take forever to do a simple task he did almost every day during work. Annoyingly inconvenient. Like always. This was her last chance. She could back out now, have a life with family and friends, a happily ever after, or... She could have _him_.

If Frisk went along with her plan, there was no going back. The stain of Genocide was irreversible. She knew that. Yet somehow, he had managed to forgive her. Or at least, forget. Either way, the pain when he found out! Frisk had worked so hard to build this sense of trust and here she was, dead set on breaking it. Again, and again, and again. She looked at her bag. Papyrus had bought it for her from the shop. It was weird what she was using it for. She slipped off the couch, shooting to the kitchen as quietly as possible. Time, for once, was of the essence. She opened a drawer, pausing as she selected a shining, freshly sharpened knife. It was almost as beautiful as the one they'd used during countless genocide runs. She'd grown quite attached to it. The clock ticked on as Frisk dashed up the stairs, checking it to see if the time was up. 12:39, already. Night, dark and deep and perfectly deadly, was here.

Papyrus would be sleeping, she knew. But not for long. The hallway paused her steps. So many memories, of the skeletons. Time was running, however, and she had to be faster. She walked casually into Papy's room, knife held in a manner as if it were a toy, or a drawing a child wanted to present to their mother.

She was lightning fast and had Papyrus pinned down before he was fully awake, knife at his neck like so many RESETS earlier...

"Heya, Paps. Nice to see you."

She stabbed the knife into the wall, trapping him in the corner, with barely room to breath, much less talk. Her eyes glinted with excitement.

"So, here's how this is going to be. Me and Sansy are going on a little, say-" she chuckled, "a little trip. And you are going to stay nice and perfectly, happily, quiet."

Papyrus's eyes widened, and slowly, slowly, closed again. It was magnificent. One, tiny little action, and it was obvious- oh, goodness- he was crying, even- he didn't believe in her.

"Thanks, Paps!" She was childish again, but it was as much a lie as her Pacifist Runs.

She left him stuck there, and trotted down the hall, down the stairs, and back into the kitchen. It was wonderful! The adrenaline, how she had missed the feeling.

Frisk again shuffled through the drawer, grabbing this time a smaller, duller knife. It would be more painful. From her bag, she brought out a vial of magic. Chloroform was slow, so she'd just have to be very, very, careful of what she hit.

Sans was, surprisingly, still asleep. It was 12:43 now, almost time. She grabbed his hood, jerking him up, and rammed the knife handle into his skull. He was out again before he had even seen her. His HP was already dropping, so she shoved him backwards and- ugh- forced the magic from the vial down his throat. It stopped the decrease, but didn't wake him up.

She lifted him carefully, smiling like a bride at a wedding. Her prize- and almost no struggle! It was so, so delicious. She half ran, almost desperate, so amazingly excited for what she had planned for him. She'd get rid of his little _issue_ soon enough.

It was relieving that it everything was finally falling into place. The pretending was over… how very _very_ excited she was.


	2. A room

Sans opened his eyes. He was so confused at what happened. What _had_ happened? He didn't remember anything about last night. Or this night? His eyes sockets were still blurry.

 _Ok, let's not freak out_.

Sans was sitting a bed. His bed? No. This bed was made with a blanket and pillow. He was too lazy for that. Was it possible Papyrus finally gave in and took him there in the middle of the night?

No, probably not. The kid had been- Frisk. She had- oh, holy- No. No no no no NO. This couldn't happen, not again- oh please, stars- please, please, let this be a dream, or a nightmare-

He was doubled over, sheets tangled around his legs, and breathing beyond erratic- his hands tore at his skull, agitating a wound he didn't remember, until he sobbed out a final, desperate, plea…

"please, kid... don't do this to me again..."

Then he went quiet, sobbing into his arms, staring blankly at nothing. He was nothing. There was absolutely nothing he could do, and it was all his own fault. He had let himself lose to a freak of nature- as if there was anything natural about her.

Anger replaced the emptiness. It was an emotion he wasn't too familiar with, honestly. It was hard to stay angry for, gor- how long? Years, decades, who knew. But here it was. Fresh, hot, sharp, and almost unbearable, anger.

It wouldn't let him sit still. He paced, vision still blurred from tears. After, well, it was impossible to tell. Hours? Minutes? He finally stopped. Breathed. In, out. In, out. In, out.

The room was small. Gray. A bed, and a nightstand, and that was it. The sheets were scattered on the floor. The pillow had ended up jammed behind the headboard. Those didn't matter. He knew how they got there. What they meant.

The table, however... There was a picture. Oh, gor- that sicko. They'd taken a picture of his brother- oh, gor, she was disgusting. It was a photo of Papyrus, asleep, right before dawn. Scrawled across the top in red-

'In case you get homesick~'

Sans choked, grabbed the frame, and hurled it across the room. Red hot anger, there it was again. It faded quicker than last time. He had the feeling anger would be a new friend of his. The glass was scattered across the floor, and he was glad to see that the message wasn't on the photo itself, but the casing.

He gently fished it out of the glass, and went to put it in his one problem. His jacket was gone. He growled, crumpling the picture in his fist, and thrust it into his shorts pocket instead.

Sans turned back to the table, and surveyed what seemed to be a... Wait, a doctor's note? The crap? What even was the kid- oh. Well that wasn't good. He groaned, and fell onto the stripped matress. Anger was apparently exhausting.

He sighed and rolled over. He knew the kid would have taken measures to make sure he couldn't get out. With as much information as they had, it was useless... He was useless. A toy, in the hands of a maniacal child, doomed to suffer. Forever.

And just as Sans felt the familiar feeling of emptiness, guilt, and depression fall over him, the door unlocked.

It creaked open, and a shadow fell over the room, as Sans pushed himself as far into the corner as possible.

Then Frisk, sadistic, genocidal, horrifying, Frisk- She came skipping into the cell.


	3. Isn't Blackmail Fun?

Sans didn't make a sound, and they stared at each other, tense waiting for a break-

The room seemed to explode with magic. Bones crawled up the walls, Blasters hung in the air, and in the middle of chaos, they fought.

It was a familiar dance. Attack, Dodge, repeat. They knew each other like they knew their own names.

Difference was, Sans was weak. Always had been. His greatest strength was staying one step ahead, but that was impossible against Frisk.

The battle lasted two minutes, maybe three, before Sans gave in-

Searing pain, cold black, and the stomach- hurling sensation of a RESET.

Frisk walked in, this time.

"Sansy! That was rude. Don't you know how to greet an old pal?"

Sans sighed. This was so familiar.

"that's pushing it, kid. only pals i have live in normal society, with normal lives, and most importantly, don't go around murdering people. mental health, ya know."

"Sans, there's no use fighting!" She grinned wildly, "We're friends, and you can't change that!"

Sans shrugged.

"Aww, Sansy," she pouted, "Put down the attack!"

"go screw yourself."

Sans slumped in his corner, mentally stabbing Frisk with the glass she was standing on.

Frisk dropped her mask for a small second.

"Look, Sans. Here's the deal. For every time you kill me- no, every time you use your magic, I'll hurt your brother in ways your mind wouldn't even think of, and send you a nice little video of it."

She chippered, back to a sickening- sweet smile,

"Now! We can get back on schedule!"

Frisk said, "I miss you! Let's spend some time together, Sansy~!"

Sans lurched backwards, inadvertently slamming his head against the wall. He really needed to stop doing that.

"THE HECK NO, YOU-"

Frisk growled, "What did I say?"

Sans smirked, a sort of twisted humor in his eyes as he replied, "you said if I used magic, moron. ain't anything about mouthing off."

She huffed, "well, I wanna play with you!"

"Uh huh." He raised his eyebrow, or the skeletal equivalent. "and why in the name of the throne would I ever do that?"

Frisk was twitching, impatient. Ha. "Well, in this place, Sansy," her smile grew sick, and shadows hanging over her face as she leaned forward, " **RULES**."

He wanted to turn away, look anywhere but at her- but she froze him in her gaze.

She left him trapped, terrified, utterly helpless, in her stare, then took his wrist and pulled. Hard.

Sans fell forward, heaving, finally free from her horrible eyes. She pulled him along.

He never wanted this. He didn't want to be there. He didn't want to ever see the monster that had him, trapped in its' grasp, ever again.

But he had no choice but to follow along. Submit to whatever was happening. He just wanted to keep his brother safe.

She beat him. _Guess she knows me too well._ No matter what the circumstances, if he had the chance to save his brother, he would do anything. Even if that meant living with a serial killer. Frisk had thought a lot about this, for sure. Maybe even days. It made him so uneasy that she had planned this for a month, a week, or even a day.

"fine, you win," Sans said.

"Wow! That was easier than I expected! I thought you'd put more up fight?! Guess I was wrong about you?" she basically shouted," or I was just the correct amount of right?"

Frisk moved forward and grabbed his wrist and pulled. Sans reluctantly got off the bed. He didn't want to go where she wanted to take him. He didn't _want_ to be with Frisk. He wanted to be with Papyrus, his brother.

Then again, not everyone gets what they want. He was in for the ride. Nothing he could do but corporate and hopes it saves his brother.


	4. MAIL FOR PAPYRUS

All he could do was wait. It was agonizing. The first two days were the worst. He checked the mail every few seconds, dreading what he might see, feeling relieved- and the guilty. Sans was gone. Gone, without a trace, as far as everyone else knew. They were looking everywhere, but Papyrus knew exactly where he'd gone. But he couldn't say a thing. So he waited. For the first time since forever, he stopped. He stopped and waited for something to happen. Papyrus despised doing nothing. But somehow, he couldn't bring himself to do anything. He should be looking for Sans. But he already knew where he was.

Grillby insisted on cooking for him. Said it would just be more money on Sans' tab for him when he came back. Papyrus knew Sans wouldn't be coming home. But he said nothing. He ate almost nothing. It wasn't the grease that bothered him, really. Maybe before, but he just... Wasn't hungry. Undyne visited every night, tried to get him to eat.

"Paps, don't worry. Knucklehead probably got lost somewhere."

She pushed the plate towards him,

"He ain't strong, sure, but he's a schemer if I ever knew one. He can weasle himself in and out of anything."

Papyrus just stared listlessly at a sock on the floor. Sans wasn't lost. He knew exactly where his brother was. Or at least, who he was with. He didn't understand.

He'd done everything right! Sure, he was a bit obnoxious, but the human had been his friend. Right? So why were they doing this? He couldn't- stars, nothing made sense.

"Paps..." Undyne sighed, slumping in her seat. "I need to get home. Just- just don't overdo anything, alright?"

Her voice cracked. Paps didn't have the energy to reply. Guilt settled in his stomach. He was supposed to help his friends, but he was just a burden.

The door closed behind Undyne, and Papyrus still stared at the sock on the floor.

Nothing made sense anymore. Sans was gone. Gone, and not coming back. For all he knew, he could- oh, gor, no. He couldn't think about that.

Paps left the table, plodded to the couch, and stopped. The house was a mess... It wouldn't do for it to stay like this. He shuffled around, picking up a shirt here, a dish there.

He dragged himself upstairs, and left his door open while he slowly, exhaustively, organized his room. It took, well, he wasn't sure. A while. But he just- he couldn't sleep here.

The couch would be fine. Papyrus collapsed. Undyne would be by in the morning, she could wake him up...

…

Undyne paused when she let herself into the house. It was barely six, she should let him sleep.

She sighed. He was sprawled across the couch, shivering. Undyne shook him awake.

"Paps. Paps, bud, it's freezing."

Papyrus shrugged her off, shifting so he could sit up. Heavy bags adorned his eyes.

"Sorry, Undyne. You Really Shouldn't Have To Bother With This."

He was quieter than usual. Undyne sat next to him, waiting. Life seemed to be doing a lot of that. Dragging by, one moment waiting for the next.

"Papyrus, do you think you could work today? I know it's hard, but we need to have a sentry on duty."

That was a lie. Truth, Undyne couldn't bear to see him like this. She'd come by to update him, but... Bad news could wait.

Paps shrugged. "Sure."

Undyne felt her hands shaking. She glanced over at him again, and followed his eyes. He was staring at the sock in the corner.

How did it come to this? The cameras were dead, Sans was gone, Frisk was gone, everything was just so wrong. Life was wrong. Nothing was the same without them. She couldn't stay here another minute.

Undyne stood from the couch, gave Papyrus one last worried look, and left. Whoever, whatever, had caused this- They were going to pay.

…

The mailbox had a letter. Thank goodness, just a letter. Papyrus sighed in relief. Something, at least, still made sense. It was probably a bill, or some other stuffy official thing.

He opened it carefully, ready to see the yellowish parchment used on any official document, but stopped.

This most definitely was not a letter. It was a picture, and what he could see... It was so wrong.

It was too much. He ripped his eyes from the letter, closing the envelope, and ran inside as fast as possible. He fell into a heap on the floor, leaning on the couch.

Papyrus couldn't wrap his mind around it. Everything was wrong. Nothing made sense. The human had betrayed them, and Sans... Stars, Sans…

One breath. Two breaths. He braced himself, and picked the photo out of the envelope, holding it gingerly. Like something dangerous, or disgusting.

Oh, gor, it was disturbing. Innocent enough, until you looked a little closer. A picture of Sans, asleep. Pillow between his legs, sheets balled up as a pillow. He seemed comfortable. Safe.

But the sterile look of hospital light spraying on his brother's skull. Glass was scattered on the floor. Most of all, Sans didn't have his jacket.

It was grossly, horribly, wrong. He never took of his jacket. It was safety, for him. And Papyrus knew that.

The world had stopped working properly. It was the same. But everything had gone sideways. Logic was non-existent. He couldn't breathe. It was all so, so, much. So much. Pressing on him, weighing on him, pushing him to his knees.

Papyrus couldn't understand why the human did this. Why they would torture them like this. But it was so obvious, really. Right in front of him.

It was scrawled in red, at the top of the picture, the answer. "Isn't he CUTE?"


	5. Chess?

"Chess?"

Frisk sat at the table, waiting for Sans to sit down. The chess board was all laid out, white on his side, black on hers. Nice color coding skills. Choosing the same color of her heart. The door was still ajar and he could make a break for it. But that wouldn't go anywhere. He'd probably just die again if he tried. He wasn't very keen at sitting so close to his own murderer but it wouldn't be wise to disobey.

Sans was still rubbing his wrist. The yanking motion she'd took to when walking was not an accident. It, on its own, was twisted. But it didn't help she walked like Papyrus did. Sans was fairly sure that was on purpose too.

The room was just like all the rest. Cold, dark. The only thing in it was a table and chess board. Well, and the _kid._

There was a camera in here too. Surprise, surprise. There were cameras in every room, not to mention that they took pictures sometimes. Sans tried to be behind the bed when that happened though.

He had concluded that it was a lab of some sort. There seemed to be strings of entries plastered to the walls, written entirely in what Sans knew to be WingDings. He had seen blueprints in the font before. Alphys had asked him to take a look at them and try to decipher them.

It only took him a couple of days before he gave up.

"What? Don't tell me you've never played."

"i've played before. just didn't think the resident _psycho_ was into that sort of stuff."

Though, he hadn't played in years. Papyrus wasn't really into that sort of stuff. Come to think of it, Sans wasn't sure who he'd learned it from or who he had played with.

Just another weird thing to an already piling list of questions he'd have to ask himself later.

"Aww. How _sweet_ of you."

Sans reluctantly sat down. Better not to wait for her. Frisk smiled wider, her face brimming with delight.

"Wow! I didn't even have to ask you!"

"yea, yea. a marvel."

Frisk played with a pawn, fiddling it in between her pointer and middle finger. She picked it up and placed it a step forward.

"Your turn."

"what are you trying to do?"

Sans played his move.

"I just wanna play a game, _Sansy._ "

"Playing with the lives of people ain't very redeemable."

Frisk frowned slightly, "You really don't understand, do you?"

"i understand you're a murderer who purposely put people through heck for your pure enjoyment. What else is there to understand?"

They played off of each other. The game kept progressing, Frisk always having the upper hand. Sans wasn't sure exactly why they were playing, but, being honest with himself, it was better than being alone. The cold dark room reminded him way too much of his house during a gencoide run. Cold, dark, lifeless. The screaming silence could be overpowering, to the point where it was physically painful.

So it wasn't nice being with the _sicko_ , but he was alright with it.

Frisk pinned him down into a corner. Check. He stared at his queen. Technically, it was one of the most valuable pieces. And it was the only ones that could prevent her from taking his King.

But he hesitated. After all, she'd back him right back into another corner and take his piece. She had even had the opportunity to do so, but she didn't. Was this some sort of symbolic message she was trying to ram down his skull?

"What's the matter? You can move your Queen to stop my attack. Why don't you?"

Sans was right. She was trying to prove something.

He hated when he was right.

"I have a question for you, _Sansy_. Imagine, for a minute, that you are actually that piece and you're that king. Many of your own have already died, trying to protect you. And now someone closest to you is about to do just the same thing. Do you save your own skin in the hopes you can pull out a win for your country?"

Or… do you sacrifice yourself to prevent the deaths of those you love? Your choice."

Sans paused. Frisk looked smug, almost like she was daring him to make his next move. Sans didn't like how much time she devoted just to look at him. He had always been one of those kids who'd rather blend into the crowd. Sans was perfectly content to be a part of the backdrop, especially if it meant avoiding her gaze.

He looked back at his pieces. She'd given him the choice. She wanted him to choose. But she was going to be disappointed. Sans is naturally gifted in that category. Does she even know what she is playing with? If there's anyone who can dodge responsibility, its him.

"checkmate."

Frisk blinked, a little shocked. Apparently, she'd forgotten that Kings and Rooks can switch.

"Well, I'll admit, I didn't see that. Guess I was too focused on you."

"shut up, will ya." Sans wasn't in the mood for her creepy, crud.

"Why Sansy pansy?"

"have some sympathy to the poor walls who have to echo our filth."

Frisk looked at the game board, "Wanna play again?"

"No."

Frisk stood up, dropping his queen onto the floor.

"Come on. If you don't wanna play, I have business to attend to."

Sans reluctantly followed, getting up from his seat.

"You can't avoid me, ya know? You can't castle out of check."


	6. True Lab

Undyne was at the end of her strings. Frisk and Sans were still missing. Monsters were getting scared. Dang it! Monsters don't just disappear! They have to go SOMEWHERE! _Unless… No don't think like that Undyne!_

She honestly hadn't realized how much their makeshift family needed both of them. Papyrus seem to barely function without his brother, which was a little surprising. She had always thought that Sans needed him more than he did. Sans himself agreed with the sentiment. Then again, Undyne still had family. They only had each other.

Frisk was the linchpin. The rascal cared so much about everyone and had saved everyone from that _flower_ thing. She was literally the angel sent from above.

Undyne really hoped the kid was okay. Knowing Sans, she really couldn't be sure.

Wherever they were, Unydne wasn't gonna give up.

She tried to run but her body wouldn't let her.

Not in Hotland, at least.

They need to recheck the cameras again. Recheck them. There has to be a logical explanation. Maybe they missed something. Undyne walked into the lab,breathing at the sweet release of air conditioning and went upstairs. She saw Alphys pouring over camera recordings. Her fidgeted with her hands, tapping them gently on the desk. Her eyes darted across the screen. She seemed lost in thought, playing a piece of footage over and over again.

Undyne walked right behind her and put her hand Alphys' shoulder, "Anything?"

"Oh, y-y-you scared me, U-Undyne. Knock before c-coming in. But, YES, I did find _something_!" Alphys stammered, "I was looking t-through the recordings of Snowdin over and over, t-trying to s-see _something_. But I saw n-nothing. Absolutely nothing. U-until I looked at the t-time recordings. T-the editing was fluid, impressive almost. But they m-missed a second. See?"

Alphys played the recording of Papyrus's house. Undyne stared at it. She didn't see it.

"L-let me show you," she played it slower. This time Undyne caught the switch from 12:42 to 12:44.

"The-the footage was tampered… a- and not only that… I saw something…"

"Saw what?"

"I-I probably just saw it w-wrong. It d-doesn't make sense…"

"What did you see?" Undyne asked. She didn't understand where this was going. A missed second wouldn't help them find Frisk.

"I- I thought I was the door open. For a split second…T-the c-cameras was tampered with. Which means, we really can't trust any of the footage we have. That's why it's probably nothing… A-all I can say is that this wasn't a spur of the moment decision. T-this was planned."

"Do you think Sans did it?" Undyne asked. She never really paid much attention to him but he knew that he was smart. In fact, he had helped Alphys set up the security system. Was it too much of a longshot to say he could've screwed with it?

"I thought that too! But why would he leave without telling Papyrus? Why would he just up and LEAVE?!" Alphys bursted. She wasn't stuttering anymore.

Undyne was quiet. Why would he? But almost as soon as she asked herself, an answer came. "To commit suicide?"

"No, n-not likely. Why would Frisk be wrapped up in all this? She would stop him. There's a connection we haven't figured out yet. G-give me another day," Alphys stated.

"ANOTHER DAY?!" Undyne yelled, "Another day is another they could be in danger! Another day they could be dead! Another day for us all to suffer! We don't have anymore days, Alphys! _We need to find them_!"

"But I don't know where they _are_!" She squeaked. And this time, Undyne knew she was lying. She wouldn't look at her. She looked teary eyed and guilty.

Undyne had seen her like this many times. Most of the time, Undyne would offer support but this clearly wasn't the same thing.

"Where are they?" Undyne commanded.

"In the o-only other place we h-haven't checked… t-true lab."

…

"True lab?" Undyne questioned, "What's true lab?"

Alphys couldn't stand to look at her. She stared at her hands. Did she really think she could get away with that sort of crap? Did she really believed she could just wash her hands clean? After what she did? She really was an idiot. Locking the door and hiding it doesn't make it go away.

She really can't escape, can she?

" _ALPHYS, WHAT IS TRUE LAB_?" Undyne almost screamed.

She was about to confess when Undyne phone rang. She had left it on speaker apparently. "U-Undyne…" a teary voice whispered. It was Frisk. "Undyne, please you have to help me! Please Undyne! He-he's dying! _Please_!"

" _Where are you_?" Undyne asked urgently.

"T-t-the ruins…" Frisk breathed, "HURRY!"

Undyne ran out the door but Alphys stayed. This wasn't right. The ruins had already been checked numerous times. She looked at the screen. She had started tracking phone calls for info. She looked at where the call came from. Hotland.

She was about to call Undyne when there was a slam. She ran down the conveyer belt and stared at Frisk. Her face was so calm, emotionless. Her eyes wide open, a deep cold brown.

No wonder she kept them closed so much.

"I-I-I don't understand. Why?" Alphys whimpered.

"I figured you might be a problem. And the last thing I want is Undyne to know what I've been up to."

"W-what are you d-doing?"

"What do ya think?"

Alphys gulped. She stared at the glinting knife. She hadn't even bothered to clean it.

"B-back off!"

"I haven't moved."

"Y-you will!"

"I'm not an idiot, Alphys. I can't kill you. I need you alive. Who else is gonna keep Undyne on a wild goose chase?"

Alphys stepped back. What? No! She'd never to do that- she'd never…

"Better than me having to kill her, right?"

"Undyne is s-strong! You're just a kid! You can't kill her!"

Which was true. You don't get the title of 'captain of the royal guard' for nothing. But at the same time, humans are much stronger than monsters. But she's a kid. If she could have killed Undyne, she would have already.

Frisk walked over to Alphys, her body freezing in place as the child scraped the knife across her face, drawing blood.

"Just one more secret to keep, right Al?"

The nickname sent shivers down her spine. The words were bitter and sharp. There was no doubt about it.

She could kill anyone.

Everyone.


	7. A friend

Papyrus sighed at his station. The cold blistering of Snowdin had never bothered him before. But, then again, he had never been alone in it. Sure Sans would sneak off to who knows where and go to Grilbys' when he was supposed to be working, but had never been gone, gone. If Papyrus ever needed him, Sans was there faster than should be physically possible.

But now he just wasn't.

He knew he was slacking off at work. Mostly because he knew he really wasn't there to watch for a human. The human wouldn't be here.

Snow drifted down lightly from the cavernous ceiling. It served as a somewhat, mickshift sky. After years of evaporation, clouds began to form near Snowdin because it's top was the highest. It was surprisingly bitter, the weather. He wondered how Sans was able to sleep in it.

Gor, he didn't wanna be here. He wanted to talk to someone, he _needed_ to talk to someone.

But who? He can't talk to Undyne. She'd pry at him, trying to find what was wrong. He needed someone he could trust. To talk to.

Papyrus needed a friend.

He knew exactly who.

…

Papyrus walked through the long-abandoned ruins. He had gone to inspect the puzzles many times, coming across other monsters. But they had been quick to move out. Papyrus followed the path, not exactly sure where to go or what he was doing. All he wanted was a distraction, something to keep his mind off of everything else that seemed to be going on. Flowey, while not his first choice, was a pretty calming presence.

And gor, did Papyrus need some calm.

Papyrus walked through the different rooms. Once, the ruins were a mysterious puzzle Papyrus had wanted to solve. Now, it was just empty.

Ironic.

He got to a clearing at the end. Grass grew in one spot, the ray of sunshine allowing it to grow. Sitting in the small patch of greenery sat Flowey. His head was hung and he looked kinda sulky. Papyrus walked up and sat by his friend.

"What do _you_ want?"

"Just Wanna Talk."

"...About _what_?" Flowey said, the harshness in his voice evident.

"I Don't Care."

"That's not like you… to not care, that is. Your worthless brother rubbing off on you?"

He was a crueler than Papyrus had remembered. But anything was better than his own mind.

"I'm Just...Tired. Just Need To Talk."

"..I guess I don't have anything better to do. What's bothering you?"

Papyrus paused. He rarely lied and was extremely inexperienced at it. He didn't even know where to start hiding things. Maybe… if he told him something he might believe? But what?

"The human… the human's sick."

It wasn't a lie, really.

"Sick? Like a fever?"

"Yes."

Now, Papyrus was lying.

"Are there okay?" Flowey asked.

"Yes, The Human Can Get Through Anything!"

This lying thing was a lot easier than he'd thought.

"Pfft. Not like I care… Let me guess… everyone is freaking out."

"Sorta."

Freaking out was an understatement.

"...Why aren't you hanging out with your _friends?_ Why do you want to talk to me? I _am_ that Flower demon who tried to kill your precious human friend."

Papyrus stopped. He never really knew why he trusted Flowey. Maybe it's because he trusts everyone ad believes that anyone can be good… At least he used to. He kinda just did. Couldn't explain it, definitely couldn't word it. It just… was.

"I Don't Know."

"You're an idiot."

"Okay."

…

Papyrus was acting weird. And he didn't like it. Flowey himself had always been fascinated by his annoying consistency. He was always ready to believe and trust anyone. Always in a good mood. Never not kind. It had infuriated him at first but quickly became his favorite part of the world. Testing different things to see what would finally make it crack. What would finally push him over the edge.

But this, this was different.

Maybe he was truly worried about Frisk and just couldn't verbalize it. It was either that… or it was a lie.

No, Papyrus lying was a dumb idea. The skeleton was comically trusting and nerve hid anything.

But even as Papyrus walked away, Flowey couldn't convince himself. He'd have to pay Frisk a visit. See what's up.

He dug through the earth, his favorite way of traveling, to new home. Flowey sat at the step of the Queen's house. A place he once called home. He hadn't stepped in it resets ago. He didn't like being reminded of something he no longer has.

Nonetheless, Flowey creaked the door open and slipped inside. He snuck into Frisk's room, which had been much easier than he'd expected. He would've thought Mo-Toriel would constantly check up on her.

He got his answer when he looked inside.

The bed was neatly made. There was on sign of a child, sick or otherwise. It looked empty and untouched.

More importantly, Frisk wasn't there.

And Frisk wasn't sick.

Could she be-?

No.

She can Reset.

Unless she didn't want to…

No.

She wasn't the kind in give up.

She was determined.

Question was.

Where was she?


	8. YOU'RE LOUD WHEN YOU SCREAM

(Warning: Torture)

Frisk giggled in anticipation. She had been waiting for a long time. It had taken her forever to fix it. Not to mention, it was extremely hard to smuggle that darn Soul. And even longer to fix the machine up. All the machinery and medical supplies were quite old. She cleaned her face in the sink. She had been sleeping in one of the more furnished rooms. She looked over at the chair. The jacket was still there. Today, she was gonna wear it. Today, it will be soaked in blood.

She'd been waiting for this.

She skipped down the halls. Frisk loved the doors in this facility. They were completely locked in the inside, but she could just open the door without keys. It was always fun to his confused and frustrated face as she opened the door. Today, though, he wasn't staring at the door, like usually. Sans was staring at the camera. Why though? Did he think if he stared at it long enough, Frisk would let him leave? Or did he want to know why they're there? In that case, maybe she COULD shed some light on that later. But not today. Today is going to be fun.

" _ **Sansy**_! What are you looking at? Mind sharing it to the class?"

Apparently, he hadn't seen her, and he jumped. Idiot.

"oh, _you_."

"Well, I am hurt," she pretended.

"sorry that I _deeply damaged_ you. Could you _**ever**_ forgive me?'

"Nope, but I have an idea of what'll make me feel better! Come on, _**Sansy**_! I have a surprise for you!"

She grabbed his wrist and yanked him out of the bed. He winced a little, but other than that, Sans didn't seem to notice. She guided him down the halls. Usually, they would turn right for her Drawing room. But today, they were going left. It seems Sans must have noticed this difference too.

"mind telling me where we're going?" he asked half curious and half sarcastic.

"Aww! But that'll ruin the surprise! We're here anyway!"

They were staring at the door. Frisk opened it, much to Sans absolute frustration at how they work. The door swung open to reveal her workshop. It used to be an operating room, but it was completely destroyed by the time Frisk had found it. Oh well, it was useful now.

She shoved him into the room. The room had a big surgeon table on it with straps. And _toys_.

" well, now. looks like you've been _**busy**_. _**science project**_ of something?"

"Yup! It was hard, but _I FINALLY DID IT_! I _FINALLY_ found a way to get around your _**obnoxious**_ little problem!"

Apparently, he didn't understand. Does she have to explain everything!?

"Just get on the table!" she yelled. She was so angry that he didn't understand. Why didn't _anyone_ understand?

He reluctantly started to lay down when Frisk jumped in "Oh, but first. Remove your shirt,"

Sans gave her this look that said that 'What the-?'. Not an uncommon face. Frisk had seen it so many times, "Just do it before I decide to snap your neck!"

He rolled his eyes (wait) and took it off. His ribcage was thinner than she'd thought. Not skinny, but not big. In a middle ground, of sorts. Each rib cascaded down till it stopped. His spinal cord seemed to jet down to his- Frisk saw his soul around his neckline. It was so small. So fragile. So breakable. He laid down on the table.

"there?" he mumbled with absolute disinterest. This bothered Frisk. He should be excited. She was.

She hopped over to bed and started to strap him down to the table. _This_ warranted a reaction from the otherwise unenthusiastic party pooper.

"what are you doing?"

"Does it _concern_ you? Like you have _any_ control over what I do to you?!"

"fair enough," he sighed. He really didn't care. Then again, he didn't understand. He would, eventually. She strapped him down. First, the hands, then feet and lastly the neck. Frisk was bubbling in excitement.

"got a reason for strapping me to a table? Not like I need to hold still for you to kill me," sans asked.

"Actually yes. I do." Frisk said, shaking herself, "I have a very good reason for strapping you to this table."

"mind sharing?"

"Yes, yes I do. Like I said, _**surprise**_! Weren't you supposed to be smart?"

"weren't you supposed to be a sweet kid?"

This bugged Frisk. Was she supposed to be like that? A sweet kid? No, she wasn't. She picked up the syringe. She looked at the anastasis inside. Perfect.

She took the syringe carefully and walked over to the table. She approached him, and the syringe caught his eye.

"so, you're a doctor now?" The sarcasm in his voice was clear.

"Don't need a degree for what I'm doing. Besides, if I mess up, I can just reset." Frisk taunted back. She liked holding her complete control over time over Sans' head. Very entertaining watching him fail.

"i am so _**comforted**_ by that fact," he said back.

"Oh, hush now. Save your strength!" Frisk giggled. She leaned over to his neckline. Frisk touched his soul. She felt him jump and close his eyes. Dummy. She jabbed the syringe in. He body jerked back in response. His body rattled and slowly came back.

"Sansy! Good job! You didn't die!" she chirped. Sans glared at her. Frisk shrugged. She walked over to her machine. The machine was placed on a roller-desk. She pushed the machine to the table. Frisk stared at the light green, pulsating from the machine. _**FINNALY**_!

She grabbed three of the tubes and stuck it into his soul, being careful to make it extremely painful the entire time.

"do you have a reason for sticking me to a life supporter? not like it'll do much good,"

"You'll find out soon enough." Frisk clicked the machine on. It lit up and gave her his stats. One hp. Good, it was working. Frisk went over to the rest of her tools. She grabs the roll of duct tape. She rips some good pieces off. Frisk skipped to Sans, still strapped on the table. Frisk stuck the tape over his smile, making sure to do it tight.

"Now I don't have to listen to your _**insufferable**_ chat!"

Frisk was so excited. It was WORKING! Frisk skipped to the skeleton. She touched one of his ribs and grabbed it. She tapped it gently, a tease, and then Frisk yanked the bone upward snapping it off the ribcage. A bloodcurdling scream blared through the room. The duct tape was bloody now. Sans looked like he was choking on his own blood. She giggled. It was funny.

Frisk glanced urgently at the machine. ONE HP! She was so happy, she could scream in joy. Though, he probably has that covered. "Wow! You sure are loud when you scream!"

She tossed the bone onto the ground and stomped on it. Over and over until it was basically a pile of dust. Frisk was surprised when this only summoned a whimper. She wanted him to scream more. Oh well, she had time. And _toys_.

Frisk picked up a blade and examined it. It was sharp and silver. She could see her reflection. Frisk hopped over and leaned into Sans' face. It was flushed with tears and blood, but a defiant look of hatred. She frowned then smiled grimacingly.

She cut at the bone, mimicking dicing vegetables. She felt his body tense with every swipe of her knife. But he stayed silent.

Such a pity.

Guess Frisk would have to be a little more precise.

Frisk ran her fingers across his upper leg until she found a spot she liked. Then Frisk placed her knife on the top of the bone. And then started forcing it down.

Frisk heard Sans gasp, so she pushed it farther, blood dripped down onto the table. She was quite enjoying this.

But, alas, she always wanted more. This wasn't good enough.

She could only do so much before losing herself.

Frisk walked back over to Sans's face. She smiled and touched his Soul again. It felt so light, small, fragile. Like she could rip it in half.

So she did. She gently started prying at the sides, forcing them to unnaturally comply.

Sans's body jerked upward. He screamed and tried to shake himself front he restraints. The reaction instinctive.

Frisk yanked both of the sides in half; it scattered to dust immediately, along with the rest of him.

She giggled, moving the dust through her hands.

Oh, she liked this.

She liked this a lot.


	9. Death

Death was inconvenient. At least, when you're the one who's dead, it sure is. But sometimes there are benefits. When you wake back up, everything's better. The air is fresher. The food tastes better and the water colder.

Maybe after being disconnected, your senses are heightened, Sans wasn't sure. But it was one of the better things about Resets. And to be honest, the list is really short. But the best part of dying is Sans gets to see Papyrus again.

No matter how slowly the death or how bad the wound feels after, nothing can ruin seeing his brother again. And after the reunion, Sans is usually productive. It's how the morning goes. Along with adding a plea that it's not a _Genocide Run_ _ **.**_

As Sans woke up to the strapped table, he received none of those benefits. He opened his eyes and restrained the groan of pain from being diced like veggies. He steadied his breathing. One of his ribs was still broken, but it wasn't _too_ bad. It could be worse. Screw it, its gonna get worse.

"Morning sunshine!" A familiar voice echoed into the vast room. He ignored her and immediately regretted it. She slammed her knife down onto his left shoulder and Sans yelled in response. She smiled menacingly, "Aww! You're so _cute_ when you're in _pain_! Too bad you're _**worthless**_ otherwise."

Sans had gotten used to taunts and insults, but the 'cute' thing kinda creeped him out. 'Cute'? He didn't have much time to think though as Frisk interjected with, "OK! Let's move on to _Act Two_! Today, I think I'm going to use my scalpel and see what's inside those _bones of yours_. If they can have blood in them, who knows what's possible!"

That was stupid. A monster's body is made out of magic, the manifestation of ones Soul. It was complicated. He closed his eyes. He heard Frisk skip and shuffle as she picked up something sharp, he guessed the scalpel, then approached him. She leaned to his face. It was annoying. Sans just wanted her to get on with it.

Apparently, she heard this silent request and moved over to his chest. She placed the cool scalpel onto a rib, keeping it there for several seconds. A sort of taunt? Maybe.

She dug deep and sliced a clean cute line. His body seared in pain and he struggled to stay silent. She wasn't going to win in this way. He would stay as silent as he could. Besides, it was satisfying seeing her frustration.

She dugs the scalpel deeper into the bone. He tried to dig his fingers into the table and choked when he breathed for air. Blood welled up from every precision cut. Her hands were bloody now but she didn't seem to notice. That was something Sans couldn't understand. How she could act like nothing was wrong while being covered in someone else's blood. It had nearly broken him to even kill her, after everything she'd done. He didn't understand how she could hurt innocent people with no remorse.

His thoughts were interrupted by more digging. Sans held his breath. He wasn't going to scream. He couldn't stop the tears, but Frisk will not get the pleasure of hearing him howl like some dismantled puppy.

Eventually, Frisk left the wound alone (not even bothering bandaging) and moved onto his left arm. This time, Frisk picked up her knife again and viciously cut off a part of the bone. She twisted the knife in and out of the wound, gnawing away, leaving a bloody gash. Then she used the scalpel again and sliced into his shoulder even more. Frisk arms and torso seemed to be covered in fresh blood. He quivered, and a groan of pain escaped.

"There we go! Hit a tender spot, didn't I?" She chuckled. He wanted to snap 'no', but he couldn't, and it would only make his situation worse. He needed a break. Everything in his body wanted to die, but that stupid machine was keeping him alive. A part of Sans had to admit that it was clever. If Frisk weren't a sadistic little murderer and the machine wasn't made for the specific reason to torture him, he would ask her for advice. As it was a very impressive machine with an intriguing design.

"You know, you look frazzled! How about this?'m gonna go check up on something and we can continue when I get back!"

That wasn't even a question, just saying what she's doing. Before she left, she opened a drawer and took out to contents. It was his jacket.

She fetched his shirt and came back to the table. She slammed violently into one of his ribs and yanked it off. A burning pain soared through his body. She poured the blood all over his shirt and his jacket then stomped on the bone, into powder and rolled the jacket and shirt in its remains. She put in his shirt and jacket and breathed deep into it like it was some sort of long-lost treasure. Or something else…

Frisk closed the door (don't know why) and finally, the pain caught up. His body swelled in pain and heat. He was so tired. Sans fell unconscious from the loss of blood, still tethered to the table. He desperately wanted the dream that he had, before he wakes up after dying. The dream's always the same. He's at home and his brother's there and safe… and he's happy. But no such luck, he slept to restless emptiness.


	10. A broken mirror

Sans drifted in and out of consciousness. He dared not open his eye sockets. He didn't want to see Frisk return. He just wanted to go home. But the world doesn't care what you want.

His body ached less (not much of an improvement) and he could sort of move his hands and feet, proving he hadn't lost use. It's all he needed to know. Sans wasn't in a hurry to find out what was broken. Seeing himself would only confirm that it was real.

How wrong was this? Was there a scale of how demented a person could be? If so, would she even be on it? How exactly was he supposed to feel? Someone should write a book on how to feel when a child kidnaps you and proceeds to torture you to death.

Apparently, thoughts make greatx

white sound.

Out of being stabbed awake or waking up to an alarm, the knife was better. Sans was a little surprised and almost screamed before suppressing it into stifling groan.

"Welcome back!" Frisk giggled. She stretched and sighed. Frisk hopped back to the counter and Sans flinched.

"Down worry, Sansy! I'm grabbing bandages. We're done for the day," she cooed. Finally, over. Frisk picked up the roll of bandages and walked over to the table. She unhooked his hands first, feet and lastly, neck. She plied off the duct tape. Sans gradually sat up as far as he could with further damaging himself. Frisk started to bandage the wounds and he sat there, unsure of exactly what to say.

Frisk tossed him a wet rag as she washed her _tools_ in the sink. Sans wiped his face as thoroughly as he could. He removed it and stared at blood-soaked dishtowel. There was a lot more than he thought. He sighed and set the towel down. Frisk was done by now.

"Come on! You fell asleep two times. I guess you're tired," She nipped.

He didn't say anything. He didn't think he could. His voice was gone. Sans got off the table and followed his captor down the hallway. She didn't speak. He didn't speak. They just walked.


	11. A reward

Frisk looked at the line of pictures tethered to the wall. She kinda had a habit of printing two copies of the pictures the camera had took. One she sent to Papyrus, the other she kept for herself. The first two days, the cameras could capture him crying. But recently, he'd just been doing things to pass time. Trying to sleep. Tossing a bone up and down. She thought it was quite amusing.

Frisk mused the remembrance that she hadn't fed the numbskull since she'd disappeared. She wondered if he was hungry at all, and if so, how much. Any other time, Frisk could deduce this based on his patterns and things she already knows about him. But lately, he wasn't so predictable.

She had been thinking that they needed a break. Both of them. Frisk could control herself, but it was getting really hard to. She didn't want to ruin it. Things had to happen before this went on any further. But she needed to chill. And he certainly did. A reconnect with the only he's alive would be for the best.

But she could always make it fun.

She held a water bottle and piece of bread. When she entered the room this time, he didn't jump. He flinched. Barely noticeable to most, but Frisk had always payed an unhealthy amount of attention to his body language.

"Heya, so, I've been thinking…,"Frisk started, hiding the food behind her back

He groaned. She hadn't even said anything. This is was going to get annoying. She really needed a way to punish him. A more effective way, at least.

"MY, MY! YOU JUST ASSUME A LOT OF THINGS, DON'T YOU? Here."

Frisk tossed the bread and bottle onto the bed in front of him.

"Eat."

Instead of doing what was asked of him, he stared at Frisk questioningly. After five seconds he chuckled, "well you sure are feeling generous today. drug it or something?"

"No. I didn't. You're just going to die if you don't eat or drink anything, "Frisk sighed. He was making things harder than they needed to be, "but thanks for the idea. I'll keep it in mind."

"going to die either way. why bother?" He winked as he as he finished speaking. He was trying to get under her skin.

And it was working.

Frisk pretended to accepted defeat, "Whatever. I don't care. Starve yourself if you want to. But keep in mind, this'll be the last meal you'll get in a while."

Sans galred for a full minute then grabbed the water bottle. Frisk took this as an invitation to keep talking. So she did.

"Now. I have a surprise for you!"

"wow. another one? aren't i lucky?" Sans said through sips of water, "exactly what is this surprise of yours?"

"That's the spirit! Kind of getting tired of _sarcasm_. So far, you've done what I asked with minimal resistance. More than I expected actually. I was prepared with a chain."

Sans actually laughed. It was faked and forced, but a laugh nonetheless, "i am so glad you've decided not to treat me like a dog. makes up for everything."

He had finished the bread.

Frisk cleared her throat, "THE POINT IS, I'm going to reward you."

"excuse me?" The skeleton looked with a pissed/questioning glare, "in what sick, twisted world do you live in? reward? what do you think this is? a game? cuz i'm sure as heck not playing."

"MY GOODNESS! Don't you want to hear what it is?!" Frisk said, her voice matching his. Sans was being so dramatic.

Tense silence filled the room as both glared at each other. The pure hatred emanating from the monster was almost tangible.

"I'm going to let you go home for a day." Sans stared at her for a full minute, probably trying to tell if she was lying or if it was some sort of mental trick.

"what's the catch?"

…

Sans gazed, waiting for a reply. The kid smiled, showing an array of white teeth.

"Alrighty, the catch is…," she drummed her fingers on the edge of the bed frame, "After its over, you kill yourself."

"no," He would not do that. He wasn't going to hurt his brother. He swore that he would never EVER make Papyrus feel the loss of losing a brother. And that was a promise he was intending to keep.

"Woah, wasn't expecting that quick of a rejection? What's the big deal? You were ready to starve yourself five minutes ago."

Sans's magic flared in boiling fought for control to not snap the kid's neck. Though the temptation was strong.

"listen. i am already a liability against him here. besides my best freaking efforts, SOMEHOW, he still loves me. i'm putting him though literal heck right now and i will not make it worse. do whatever the crap you want to me, but leave my brother out of it."

"Hmm. When did you decide to care?"

The blow struck hard. Frisk grinned. He hated her. He hated how right she was. He hated how freaking right she was. Sans was such a freaking hypocrite. Not even managing to save his brother, the only thing that actually mattered in his useless life, not once, but more than he could count.

"The answer's no, psycho."

Frisk frowned slightly, giving her a pouty look. "Oh well, if you say so…" The gentle demeanor flicked off and Frisk reached and gripped the rims of his collar bone. She pulled him, her eyes fixating into his face.

"How about I put it like this, then? Take my gracious offer and spend a day with your brother. He's been missing you an awful lot. OR, I can show him around here. He'll _love_ it. Oh,and he can get a turn on that nifty little life supporter. I have so many toys! You can come too since you seem to care about him an awful lot, don't you? I can make you watch the WHOLE thing. So which is worse, a few moments of sadness that he'll forget or the worst treatment I can provide. The choice is yours."

She jerked him back into his seat. The ritual of glaring at each other began again. Sans was trying to contain the burning anger and hatred he felt for Frisk. He breathed. No point in getting riled up over nothing. He had two choices, both being bad, as usual. He shook his body, still shaking from utter loathing.

"fine,' he was able to choke out through his anger, "i'll taking your freaking reward."


	12. A Broken Promise Part 1

Papyrus laid in his bed, turning to face the clock. Midnight. The skeleton got out of the bed and walked to his desk. He picked up the nursery book "Fluffy Bunny". He knew the story by heart but still liked hearing it. It was kinda comforting, in a weird baby-ish sat against his door and opened up the book. He stared at the book, gazing downward. He was way too tired to read. He just flipped from page to page, looking at pictures.

The town had been super supportive. They brought flowers and talked with him during the daylight hours. Due to disappearances, monsters weren't supposed to go out at night. Personally, he loved their concern but he just wanted to be alone. He didn't touch the mail anymore. Papyrus couldn't stand to bear the pictures.

He just wanted all of this to be over.

Papyrus jerked at the sound of the doorbell. It was the middle of the night. Only crazies are up at this time.

Crazies.

A shiver went down his spine as the doorbell rang again, inciting the person ringing it wasn't patient. Papyrus forced himself to move upward and walk down to open the door. To his utter lack of surprise, the human was already standing in the family room. Her signature blue/pink striped shirt that Papyrus had grown to attest. But she was here for a reason. A particularly bad one, he thought.

"Hi Papyrus," the human said in a cheerful, innocent tone, she acted like she expected a hug. Not likely.

"Hi," he mumbled, not making the effort to use his high declaring voice. Papyrus wasn't going to pretend that he was excited to see her.

"You haven't broken our deal, have you?"

"No."

"Oh, well that's perfect! Cuz I have a gift for you! And I would have to drag it all the way back if you broke it! Congratulations!" Frisk said, the tone obviously tired and…antsy.

Papyrus wasn't ready for Frisk to drag his brother into the room. He wasn't prepared to see him like that. But life doesn't care when you're not ready.

He stared in horror at his brother's bones. Torn, missing, crude bandages left and right. They were wet with red holes. His ribcage looked like a massacre. His left shoulder leaned in an unnatural way. If it was possible, the bags under his eyes had grown time times more prevalent. His shirt and jacket were gone, leaving his shorts.

"hey bro… i'm back," Sans said holding out out his arms to embrace a hug.

Papyrus didn't do anything. His brother should be… dead. He only had 1HP. Was he having a nightmare? Was this real?

His delayed reaction obviously hurt his brother but he went and hugged Papyrus anyway, gripping around him with a fierosity comparable to a lion.

Frisk just seemed to disappear as the door was suddenly closed. His brother was home? He was home and covered in bandages. Papyrus felt… well how was he supposed to feel? Frisk didn't kill him but… well maybe some things are worse than death.

Papyrus returned the hug with a squeeze, trying not to further hurt Sans. They stood there silently for five minutes. Papyrus wasn't sure exactly what to do next. What was he supposed to do next? Luckily, he didn't have to decide.

Sans released him and looked around. His gaze flitted from one object to another with half-minded dullness.

"this sorta feels like a dream…"

"Well, at least someone said it!" Papyrus weakly laughed and sat on the coach. His brother followed him.

"This is still hard as stone if you're wondering."

"wouldn't have it any other way," Sans said, staring forward.

"Are we going to talk about it?"

"what exactly?"

"Sans, you're hurt."

"And? so are you!" Sans was standing, "What that brat put you through- Nobody deserves that kind of torture! Nobody, Papyrus!"

Sans was blaring with anger and energy. His bones shook as he willed himself to stay calm. And he caved. He collapsed onto the floor and closed his eyelids.

"i'm so so sorry…,"

"Brother…"

"what time is it?"

"Midnight," Papyrus remembered that it was night and a shouting contest could've been started. Not to mention his brother looked like he hadn't slept in a week. Considering the circumstances, that was probably true.

Papyrus picked up Sans, more gentle than usual, due to the agitated wounds littering his bones, and walked up the stairs. He set his brother down. Sans stumbled towards his room but Papyrus called him, not wanting to leave his brother again,, "Do you wanna sleep with me tonight?"

He clearly debated it for a second. "yea."

Papyrus walked back over to him, standing still in the door. He seemed so fatigued. He picked him up and went to his room. Papyrus set him down, and surprisingly, Sans didn't slump to the floor. He just kinda stood there. Staring. Staring at absolutely nothing. Papy had seen this type of behavior before, but Sans usually did something, anything, to hide it. His sockets had even gone blank. The action, or lack of it, wasn't that comforting. Maybe he was just catching up with what had happened. Though he didn't know what the human had done, Paps was sure it was quite a lot... Either way. It almost seemed like Sans was asleep, despite his open eyes. He might've been, with those lazy habits of his. Papyrus was not one to doubt his brother's sleeping abilities.

Breaking out of his own thoughts, Papyrus went to the bed, and Sans followed. He still seemed out of it. For once, he didn't push the issue. It had been a long night. Hugging Sans close, Papyrus was shocked by how light he was. Being a skeleton, it was to be expected, but Sans seemed almost hollow. Empty, just like his eyes.

His own sockets drooping closed, Papyrus felt Sans finally settle down. Before falling into his own sleep, he whispered to his brother, "from here, things will get better... I promise."

The words held a bittersweet nostalgia, as they clutched each other, like they used to. When one had a nightmare, or couldn't sleep, they found a solace in each other. A pity that such a comfort can never be permanent.


	13. Curiosity Killed the Cat

Flowey, by now, had noticed the staggered reloads. Almost all of them were a few minutes at max. His curiosity only growed with every jump back in time. He wondered what was going on? He wondered what was happening to Frisk to make her reload this much. Or what Frisk was doing.

Though Flowey didn't think the idiot was strong enough to hurt anyone. She was a wuss. Just like everyone else. She had sobbed for weeks over a _froggit_. Flowey was currently searching through Waterfall. Mostly since it was Frisk's favorite place. She had talked to him for hours and hours on end how it was so pretty and relaxing.

Flowey couldn't feel, but he sort of understood why she thought that. The waterfalls cascaded down reflecting light to certain spots on the walls. Some would call it beautiful. He moved gingerly through the ground and decided to check a small hidden corridor.

Curiosity killed the cat.

Flowey stared at the room and gaped at what could only be described as a massacre. There was an abnormal amount of blood splattered the walls. Almost every part of the floor was red. Dust was scattered everywhere like confetti. And right in the center of it all, was Frisk, sleeping peacefully, stooped against the wall. Wearing a extremely familiar jacket smeared in blood and dust. A soaked blade laying in her resting reddened hand.

Flowey watched her sleep, shocked. Frisk wasn't. The idiot wasn't a… they weren't a murderer. She was sweet. She was kind. She wasn't… She couldn't. Was that, was that… Chara?

"Howdy, Flowey. Haven't seen you in a while, have I?"

Flowey almost jumped out of his vines. She wasn't asleep. She was waiting.

"What, what happened?"

"What do you think?" 'Frisk' said, unmoving from her position. "You're not an idiot."

"You killed someone…" Flowey sputtered, "Finally got bored of this timeline?"

'Frisk' looked at him, her eyes a cold dark brown. "Do you, do you seriously not remember?" She started laughing.

Flowey gazed at her, What did she mean? Remember? This was her first timeline. It… it was her first timeline, right?

"Ohhh yeeaahhh, you don't remember True Resets! I completely forgot."

"What do you mean by True Resets?"

Frisk, though Flowey wasn't quite sure they WERE Frisk, grinned widely. "Why should i tell you? It would be a waste of my time…"

Flowey shifted in the ground, eyes unmoving from 'Frisk'. This couldn't be the same kid. The same child who had cried days on end over a _stupid_ monster. It wasn't Frisk. It can't be Frisk. It isn't Frisk.

"Chara?"

'Frisk snapped her head and stared at Flowey. She glared at him in bitter rage.

"Don't you _ever_ confuse _me_ to that wimp."

Her reaction caught him off guard. She knew who Chara was. She recognized the name. But why did she call herself a wimp. IT CAN'T BE FRISK.

She pulled herself upward, dust scattering with the motion, "Your sibling is dead. Has been, always will be. And even in death, they're f*ing annoying."

Flowey was so confused. She talked like she was Frisk or a demented version. It just can't be Frisk. The tingle in his stem was wrong. She wasn't Frisk. She wasn't Frisk.

"Well, you found out my little secret! Congratulations! Go ahead and give yourself a pat on the back." She stood up and dusted herself off, fluffing her hair.

"Well, I'm gonna leave. Have places to be and people to see, ya know?" She paced by Flowy and stopped.

"Oh and can you do me favor?"

She turned around, the smile gone. Her eyes pierced into him. A cold, unfeeling stare. It wasn't hatred. It was disinterest. Disinterested in his entire existence.

" Y."


	14. A Broken Promise Part 2

Sunlight falls onto Papyrus' face. His skull throbs, and for once in his life, he just wants to go to bed. Papyrus shifts and feels for his brother but come up empty handed.

Terror seizes Papyrus as he lurches out of bed, frantically scanning the room for his brother. Overwhelming relief coupled by concern welled over him as he saw Sans leaning against the door, gazing up at the popcorn ceiling, his eyes empty.

Papyrus threw the covers aside and walked over to his brother.

"how'd you sleep?"

"Fine."

It was a lie.

He looked at his brother. He didn't even seem to notice the broken bones and dried blood. In fact, he didn't really seem to notice anything.

Papyrus sat down next to him. He leaned against him a little and stared at the wall.

"what do you want to do?"

The question caught him off guard. What did he want to do? What was his brother talking about? He had been kidnapped and now he was ignoring everything that had happened.

"i mean, leaving the house wouldn't be the best option but, hey. you only live once right?"

Sans chuckled and groaned. Papyrus gazed forward as a perfectly confusing combination of emotions played throughout his head.

He didn't notice the tears streaming down his face. But his brother did. Sans hugged him tight and Papyrus collapsed into his brother's lap.

Papyrus sobbed as Sans held him closer. The roles should be reversed, shouldn't they? Wasn't Sans, who had been beaten and tortured, who should've been dead from how much he was bleeding, the one crying for sat there for several minutes, Papyrus screaming profanities at Frisk, almost choking on his own tears. Sans waited until he calmed down, whispering some unintelligible thing to help him relax. Once his crying was reduced to occasional sniffles, Sans stood.

"are ya hungry?"

"Not really."

"me neither."

"What happens now?"

Sans laughed weakly, "dunno...wanna play our game?"

Papyrus smiled. He knew what game he was talking about. They had played it when they were kids. They had called it 'Bones'.

The basic idea was that you pass around deck of cards. One person keeps refreshing the deck while the others play off of what you discarded. You either get to choose a card and discard one or pass it on.

The objective is to make matches of the same card until you have four. Once a player has four of the same cards, they try to grab a bone. After someone tries to grab a bone, everyone is free to try and grab one. There will always be one less bone than there are players. Whoever doesn't get a bone, loses.

Papyrus had really hated this game when he was young because it seemed that he never a bone. Which was weird since in all his memories, there had been two bones in the center…

But now that he was older, Papyrus had grown fond of it. It partly helped that he had one a few.

Scooping up Sans, and ignoring his shocked protest that he could walk, Papyrus headed downstairs. There were some cards down there, and he could close the curtains. It probably wouldn't make much of a difference, though. Undyne and the others had been ominously absent.

And Papyrus knew why.

He sat his brother on the floor and went to the tiny closet. It carried most of their cleaning supplies and groceries. He found the deck at the very bottom of the closet. They hadn't played it in a while. He picked them up blew off the thin layer of dust.

He went back to his brother, who already had formed one bone in the center of the soon to be circle.

"ready to get dunked on?"

"YOU ARE ON!"

Papyrus decided to go for twos since he had two already in his hand. Papyrus drew the cards, keeping an eye on his brother. Sans was looking at the cards but he seemed to be looking through them, into either the floor or nothingness. Nothingness seemed more likely.

He was proven wrong as Papyrus passed a card and grabbed another, Sans snagged a bone form the center.

"i win."

"THIS ROUND YOU DO!"

Laughter filled the room, like it used to. Like it was supposed to. It felt almost normal.

But when the laughter died, everything was all too sharp. The bandages that Papyrus was trying so hard not to notice. The dust and blood that seemed so stuck to Sans that it might never come off. The look they both wore, hollow and empty, hiding something. These testaments to the _thing_ that had ruined them. The _thing_ that tricked them. Hurt them. Hurt all the monsters he ever knew, or cared about, for some freakish version of fun.

Papyrus stilled his shaking hands. That didn't matter. Sans was here. He could protect him against that _thing_.

It was good now.

It was over.

"so...how's things been?" Sans played absentmindedly with the bone.

"Sans...you're staying. Right?"

Something changed. Maybe it was the way he held himself. Maybe the dim, fragile hope he was trying to hold on his eyes. Maybe it was _him_. But all at once, the last shred of laughter shattered. It lasted for a second, maybe two then Sans smiled at him, all too familiar. All too fake.

"I'll always be there for you,"

Papyrus faked his own smile and they started another round.

Bones ended in a tie. It was three in the afternoon. Neither of them had eaten anything. Oddly, Sans hadn't noticed. Or maybe not so strangely, with all that was going on.

With…

Oh gor. Had she _starved_ him?

The thought sickened him. Where had he been? Had he been alone in a closet? Did she shove him into a room and leave him there? For how long?

Papyrus had so many questions and concerns but… this was Sans. The last thing he was gonna do tell him how he was.

Sans waved at him, shaking out of his thought.

"you alright?"

What?

Alright?

Was _he_ alright?

Of all the things-

"Are you serious? Are you SERIOUS, SANS? OF ALL THE THINGS YOU SHOULD BE WORRIED ABOUT, I AM THE LAST OF THEM! YOU LOOK STARVED, THERE IS NOT AN INCH OF YOU THAT DOESN'T HAVE A SCAR OR A GSH IN IT, AND YOUR EYES ARE ALMOST _OUT_!"

"YOU'RE HOME, AND And… You don't even care what happened to you… y-you were beat- a-and starved, and y-you don't… you don't care…"

His brother didn't answer,

Silence filled the room. Whatever light there was seemed to dim. Slowly, exhaustively, Papyrus composed himself, not once looking at Sans. His voice was dead. Empty. Like his eyes.

"I just want you to care, brother. I want you to help yourself for once."

Sans' eyes went out. Any color surrounding him grayed. Lifeless. He looked like a corpse, animated by something that cared less for him than the dirt he walked on.

Then he collapsed, hugging himself, muttering, "i can't, i can't nono please no i can't do this anymore please stop stop just stop i don't wanna...feel right now… please just make it stop. Just make it STOP!"

Papyrus stumbled back, shocked. Sans was barely audible most of the time. When upset, he was more stern than loud.

Gasping shook him to his senses. Sans was clutching his side, splayed out now. Sobbing. Heaving. Coughing, groaning, blood dripping from his teeth, tears forcing their way from closed sockets.

He'd overdone it.

Papyrus stumbled forward, reaching out to grab his brother's hand. Sans never cried. Maybe a few tears would threaten to show after a nightmare, or his voice would stop working after something happened to Papyrus. But he never cried. Never

It was horrible. It was worse than all the scars Papyrus was only just noticing. The scratched, torn, and even shredded bits of his skull. The faint lines that had been properly treated, that looked almost surgical. None of that broke him more than Sans, crying out for help. Crying for salvation. Crying for nothingness. Somehow, in that moment, those sounded the same.

After forever, it finally stopped. Papyrus's scarf was damp from when he'd pulled Sans close, resting his head against it.

"im so f*ing dumb..."

"Sans…" Papyrus hugged him closer, "it's alright. Crying is good for you."

"Every f*ing day for _years_ isn't"

There were no answer to that.

"...Could you tell me something? Anything, that happened?"

"Paps, not yet,"

They stayed there. Neither of them being honest. For Papyrus, that was new. Something born out of fear, pain, and hatred. But it was one of Sans' biggest traits. He avoided talking about their parents. Lied about where he worked. Ignored questions about his health. And now, he was lying about telling the truth. Papyrus had the sinking feeling that Sans might never open up to anyone. Not even family...

…

Papyrus handed his brother a cup of water. Sans sipped it at intervals.

Papyrus didn't touch his glass. He sighed, setting his head on the table. Sans was staring at nothing in particular. When Paps lifted his head, he avoided making eye contact. Did Sans feel he was a burden to him? He was acting like it.

Maybe Sans was a bit lax, bordering on lazy, about working and generally getting things done. Perhaps a little absent-minded or closed off. But that didn't define him. Despite what he seemed to think.

Sans made sure the bills were paid, never touching Papyrus' salary, despite how many times he'd offered to help. He'd raised him, working dog-awful hours to make ends meet. He'd paid for schooling, even offered to pay for college. He'd always been there. Just _there_ , a constant, and a comfort when going got rough.

Sure. Sure, Sans had flaws. But so did Papyrus, when it came down to it. Overbearing, loud, a little clingy.

So he could never hate Sans.

How could he?

But, then, how could Sans resent himself the way he did?

How come he seemed as if he _wanted_ him to hate him?

Even knowing his brother for his entire life, Papyrus could never describe him, much less understand him. He was a mesh of adjectives that seemed almost contradictory, never meant to all be one.

Sans finally looked up at him. Eyes almost out, as seemed the norm so far, dark bags weighing them down.

"You should really eat, bro."

"So should you. Besides, all I have is leftovers from Grilbys."

Sans straightened slightly. He seemed concerned. "Griblz? How is he? Is he safe"

"He isn't hurt but… Now Papyrus was avoiding eye contact, "Sans, we really missed you. This isn't home without you."

He thought he saw Sans hands shaking,but he moved them beneath the table before he could be sure. Hiding, as always.

"we're gonna be here all day, aren't we? hey, you still have that movie with the human and the red slipper things?"

Papyrus looked up and met his brother's eyes. He knew exactly what movie he was talking about. The Wizard of Oz.

It was Papyrus' all time favorite movie. Sans mostly watched it because he was watching it. Once Sans made of a drinking game out of ever cheesy line of dialogue.

To put it simply, Sans had gone through six bottles of ketchup by the credits.

Papyrus had barely turned on the TV since Sans disappeared. The only thing that seemed to be playing were info warnings. How monsters should stay inside at all times. Not leave unless speaking to a royal guard prior your leaving.

He hadn't planned on leaving, so he didn't listen to them. He occasionally turned it on just to see his boyfriend's face. They hadn't been able to meet and talk face to face since Sans was kidnapped.

Mettaton was always reporting on the latest events. Though he wasn't sure of everyone who had disappeared, the number had at least doubled.

Pap picked up the case and slid the DVD into the player. Sans leaned against his brother in what was some sort of a hug.

"i missed ya."

Sans wasn't honest with his feelings a lot of the time. But when he's being genuine, you can tell. It's soft, sweet, and to the point. Usually half mumbled as something not to be discussed.

The movie began to play, buffering and skipping parts. After years of use, the disk had been covered in scratches.

The audio blared though neither of them were really focusing on it. How was this going to work? How was he going to explain his brother suddenly reappearing in his home?

What would happen if he told the truth?

Would they believe him?

Would they be safe?

Would _Sans_ be safe?

If Papyrus hadn't been through it himself, he never would have thought of the human. Heck, he'd be worried for her. But then, he knew people saw him as naive. Innocent, too quick to trust, to quick to forgive.

It struck Papyrus for the first time that things would never be the same again. That _thing_ , wasn't going to stop, was she? The likelihood that she wasn't connected to other disappearances was… well, non-existent.

He heard his brother snore lightly. Once upon a time, that would've been infuriating. Now it was reassuring. They were safe. They were together. They could figure this out… Somehow.

Papyrus had barely stayed awake for the iconic scene where Dorothy goes home. The credits would scroll soon and then it would collapse halfway through, it always did.

Sans was completely out, snoozing quietly. Papyrus couldn't get himself to move. It was around five or six by now. And he was practically starvi-

He was hungry, that's all. He hadn't eaten all day. Neither had his brother. Did he have any spaghetti noodles left in the cabinets? He'd have to check.

But his hunger wasn't strong enough to pull him from the floor. Paps had no energy or will to do… well, _anything_.

Was this what Sans felt? Sans eyes flicked open.

"hey, uhh. can i ask ya something? can i...hit the hay early? i'm _dead_ tired, heh."

Papyrus jumped a little at the pun. Sans hadn't seemed in the joking mood. The disturbing nature of it set Papyrus on edge. A chill trickled down his spine and his first instinct was to say no. But the longer he dwelled on it, the more reasonable the request sounded.

Of course he was tired.

Just a few minutes ago, he'd fallen asleep without thinking. Sans had just passed out.

"Yeah… do you want me to come with you?"

"nahh, i'm fine… just gotta..." he paused, searching for words, "figure things out, heh. know what i mean?"

Papyrus began nodding but it eventually dissolved. His brother looked ashamed and nervous. Like somehow, he was committing a heinous act that he could never be forgiven for.

But he was just asking to go to bed early.

Sans walked up the stairs and Papyrus turned to the kitchen. He needed to eat and at least try to convince his brother to as well.

Fortunately, there are enough noodles to make one last batch. Sans had always loved his brother's spaghetti and never refused another serving. So, of any _substantial_ food, this was likely to make him eat.

He set the pot to a broil and his anxieties eased. There was still the issue of the human. She's still a threat. But she wasn't invincible. She can't be.

But that would mean… _killing_ her. The idea itself seemed crude and unreal. After all, a month ago, they were friends. Great friends. But she was different. It felt like everything before was just an act.

Pretending to think he was cool.

Pretending to like his puzzles.

Pretending to be his friend.

It was never real...

But even if she is strong, Papyrus could handle her with help. With his _real_ friends, they could beat her. Even if they had to...kill her.

He could do that, if he had to. Papyrus was a royal guard in training and the guard's purpose to serve the Queen and protect civilians. And sometimes...the only way to protect ones you love...is to...is to…

Murder is wrong. No matter who does or why. It won't come to that. Papyrus won't let it come to that.

After all, Frisk had to have _some_ good in them. She'd brought back Sans, and while he had _hurt_ him in ways he didn't want to imagine, she hadn't killed him. He wasn't dead.

By the time, the spaghetti was done, it had been an hour or two. Usually, it took a lot shorter but Papyrus had wanted to make sure it was perfect.

Papyrus made a plate for Sans and walked up the stairs. He knocked gently on Sans' door, which had closed tight.

"Sans,"

The chill came back, stronger now.

"Sans, I know you're trying to sleep and you need rest but I really need you to eat."

He was met with silence. Utter silence. Panic took hold of Papyrus' soul as he gripped the door handle and tried to yank it open.

It was locked. His heart thudded. All of the times he and to lock it-

"SANS! OPEN THIS DOOR! YOU'RE SCARING ME!"

Papyrus, terrified, dropped the plate of spaghetti and used all his might to bust open the door.

He wish he hadn't.

Gor, he wish he hadn't.

The first thing he noticed was the rope. It was been loosely done, sloppily. By someone who had never done it before or had any experience. It was tied around the fan handle and it stood perfectly still, suspended in air.

The dust was next. Papyrus had never known what dust looked like. As he and never been to a funeral. It was white and powdery looking. Some clung to the rope around the neckline while most of it was on the ground under it.

Papyrus could see the shorts under the small pile of dust, and bandages laid strewn through it.

Papyrus gagged and stumbles to the floor. Shock flooded his mind. Why? How? Was that why? Oh gor… The tears formed and streamed down making it harder to breathe.

Every breath he took between sobbing felt like it was filled with… oh _gor_.

Dust.

He was breathing his own brother.

Papyrus lowered his head, thudding it on the floor, sobbing continuously. The pain kept growing and growing. It felt like he was being stabbed by tiny needles, over and over. Over and over.

As he stared upward at the remains of Sans, his _only_ family, his best friend; Papyrus felt his heart begin to crack.

Papy* #&$#($*#$&*

(*&$* %*&#!*# **$#%!

** *($&!*$**%*) *#& &$*

Papyrus laid in his bed, turning to face the clock.


	15. Goodbye Partner

Everything stopped. Time paused and the light disappeared. Only black. She hadn't dared to use it in… forever. But… she couldn't do it without Frisk.

What was she thinking? Why did she care?

Chara was a demon. She cared for no one but herself. Monsters were only in the way of her goal. So why did she care that Frisk was _having fun_?

She felt nothing. Nothing.

Chara stood perfectly straight in the darkness. Frisk was in front of the Reset button. One hand to her side, the other holding a knife.

"Greetings, Partner."

"Well, now. That explains it. What do _you_ want?"

Frisk still wasn't looking at her. Still staring at the button.

"Why not just erase this pointless world? What are you trying to prove by this?"

Thick silence fell.

Chara wasn't surprised when she heard her cry. After all, Frisk was a kid. In over her head.

Frisk loved everyone. She had never intended to kill them, in a fruitless genocide run. Chara had influenced her to do it. It was _her_ idea. She didn't want to kill anyone. Chara was the one who was evil.

"Frisk… this isn't like you. You're a good person. This is me. I did this to you… So if there's anyone in this situation who should be blamed, it's me."

Chara began to choke. Why was she so emotional all the sudden?

"Asriel was right. I wasn't a good person. I was a bad sibling...and a bad friend.

"But...you have the chance to be better. Better than me. Be the friend Asriel should've had. Be the angel this world deserves. You can be better than me. You _are_ better than me…

"If not for my sake, then for yours…" Frisk dropped to the floor, sobbing. The knife fell to the floor. Chara's tears welled and began to stream down.

She walked over to Frisk who was facing her on the floor. Chara hugged Frisk as tight as she could. Wet, heavy tears pierced their shoulders.

Chara hugged her, not wanting to let go. Frisk was scared. Just like her. A scared little girl lashing out at the world. Hurting others just so she wouldn't hurt herself.

"You know what to do…" Chara whispered.

"Yeah…"

Chara felt a jab into stomach. She felt blood drip down her lips. Blood welled at the stab wound and she started choking. Her body went limp and Frisk shoved her onto the floor.

She couldn't believe it. She watched Frisk stand and wiped away the tears, her vision hazy.

"I never liked you. Should've just stayed out of it. Don't give me any of your bullcrap!"

She whipped around and grabbed Chara's chin, squeezing it.

"Demon? You called yourself that? You're just a wimp! A little kid playing pretend! You're nothing like a demon."

Frisk grinned and dropped her down again, her face slamming against the floor.

"You're right. I'm better than you. Better at everything you say you are. I see why your brother might mistake you for me. Some people can't see through copycats.

Frisk kicked her in the gut, blood spraying out onto the floor. Chara groaned in pain and cried.

"You're an idiot if you ever thought that you were the one in control. It was painfully too obvious who was pulling the strings."

Chara closed her eyes.

What?

Why?

"And at least, _I_ have the _decency_ to not _steal_ someone's kill.

Frisk stomped on Chara's hand, causing tiny bones to fracture. She screamed out in pain and Frisk scoffed.

"Honestly, you're pathetic. Why do I even spend so much time on you?

"Goodbye, _partner_."


	16. Frisk Evergreen

"What I'm saying is that she's malnourished."

Mr. Evergreen's face paled and he began to sweat. He smoothed his perfectly combed, black hair down, his hands shaking. While Mrs. Evergreen wasn't really listening. She was on her phone, most likely scrolling through a gossip website.

Frisk couldn't move. And apparently breathe either. Malnourished? Like the kids plastered on the billboards of charity companies? How could she be like them? After all, they weren't poor. Her father was rich. How was she _malnourished_?

"Unfortunately, she probably won't be growing much. Speaking of which, I have the right mind to tell me I should report you for child abuse."

The doctor stepped down to look at her again. His dark brown eyes scanned her body. Frisk could see why he could mistake her for starving. She was incredibly small for her age. And her arms weren't very strong. And she was able to feel all her ribs, but she wasn't _malnourished_. He was just a bad doctor.

"Hey there, how about you come with me, huh? We can find you a safe place to stay and we can get you some food."

If he was under the assumption that she was gonna go anywhere with him, he was dead wrong. What did he mean by _safe place_? This was home. Where tons of maids watched her every move. She was safe here. Though food did sound good.

"Now wait just a minute, Dr. Carson. I'm sure we can settle on an agreement." Mr. Evergreen said, "How much do I have to pay you for this to disappear?"

Mr. Evergreen was quite handsome and strong. He wasn't _malnourished_ … so how could she be? Her diet was more controlled than his. She was the one who had scheduled meals. It just doesn't make any sense.

"Sir, are you trying to bribe me?! Listen, I am not that kind of man!"

"Anyone is that kind of man when their job, house and family are on the line," Mr Evergreen stated.

"...Are you… blackmailing me?"

Mr. Evergreen finally stood up from the brown leather armchair. His chestnut brown eyes glinted slightly with a twisted sort of pleasure. Like a wolf looking at a sheep.

Frisk knew that face. She'd seen it so many times. The face he always made when he picked her outfit of the day.

Frisk never liked that face. She didn't really like daddy either.

"I'll repeat myself again. How much to make this go away?"

…

Frisk let the sunlight bathe into her room from her open window. It hit her tan face and the drops of sweat glittered. She gulped the cold sharp air and watched the red and gold leaves crumple to the ground.

Frisk had just returned from her weekly lessons from Mr. Dubois and she was beat. Though exhausting, she enjoyed fencing. It was one of the only times her _father_ let her go outside of this stupid estate.

Since she took online school, she never got to go to the city. And this was the only thing that brought her closer to civilization. While they didn't live in the _middle_ of the woods, there were only two other houses near them. Both owned by close associates with Mr. Evergreen.

One of the most infuriating parts of this place was it's terrible cell service. Father didn't work at home so there wasn't a need for a good connection. So Frisk never got a phone.

She desperately wanted to call one of her other relatives, just to have someone she could talk to.

Frisk wiped her face and moved closer to the window, letting the breeze waft into her face.

That's when she noticed the bird. It was at the rim of the window seal, almost falling off. It looked like a tiny bluebird. And it had a broken wing.

But it wasn't struggling to fly.

It was shut laying there.

Like it… gave up.

Frisk was barely able to tell that it _was_ alive just by its tiny chest convulsions and its blinking eyes.

She gently picked the bird up. It started to flutter and flap its wings in fear. Frisk cooed to the bird and it calmed.

Frisk looked up how to treat a broken wing and what she should do. It took about an hour to get the accommodations ready. Frisk tried to make the bird comfortable and happy.

It was about two weeks later when the bird's wing healed. Frisk gently picked up her friend, who chirped happily in her hands. She set it gently down on the window seal.

The bird walked over to the edge cautiously before flying upward. It did a little spin in the air before coming back to the window.

Frisk was sort of surprised how fast her friend came back. She'd expected it fly away and never come back.

But her little bluebird snuggled against her hand and chirped in glee.

Frisk smiled sweetly.

But then it happened again. The feeling.

Frisk had gotten better at ignoring it, but it was so strong now. It was awful.

She wanted to kick something.

Run around.

Scream into a pillow.

But they never extinguished it. Those trivial distractions never made it go away.

It was awful.

Evil.

And it told her to.

The feeling told her if she did it, it would go away.

Frisk shook as she picked up the bird. It cooed and snuggled into her thumb, soft feathers coursing across her skin. Frisk felt a chill go down her spine as she held it tighter. It chirped in surprise and looked up at Frisk, its little eyes piercing hers.

It trusted her.

What an idoitic creature?

Frisk gripped the bird and grabbed a pocket knife on her desk next to her unfinished carving.

The bird struggled, panicking, squawking. Frisk held her breath and held the bird onto her desk. Tears threatened to show as she jabbed the pocket knife into the chest of her little bluebird.

It screeched as the pain.

Blood poured from the wound.

But it wasn't enough.

Again.

Frisk stabbed the bird again and it screeched again, this one shorter and more pathetic.

Not enough.

Again.

Frisk carved the knife into the bird, its screams and squawks hollow.

She watched as the life drained out of her little friend, the pain leaving.

Frisk dropped the knife and gasped. She looked at her hands, covered in blood and feathers.

The bluebird was a mess of blood, flesh and feathers lying on her desk. The blood had began to drip down threatening her white carpet. She dropped down to her knees.

Frisk had just…

killed.

And she liked it.

…

College was the best thing that ever happened to Frisk Evergreen. Because that's when she met Jason.

She decided she'd study psychology when she turned 12. Nothing fascinated her more than the brain. How a small organ controlled the entire thought process and functioning of the body. It seemed impossible, almost fantastical that there wasn't anything else.

Even with its complexities, it seemed too flawed.

Still, the mind was something she was always interested in. Like why a man would choose to marry someone they didn't love or why some people would sacrifice their lives for someone else.

How can the brain choose another's life over its own existence?

She didn't understand.

But she wanted to.

Was it fate that brought them together? Or was it coincidence? Or maybe probability?

Frisk stepped onto the paved cobblestone and stared at the beautifully preserved masterpiece that was Harvard.

Frisk carried her suitcases through the halls, making her way to her room. Her dream come true had finally happened. She was away from her _controlling_ father and free to do what she pleased.

The engineering club looked promising and she'd have to look through it later.

She stared at the vast amount of people, some talking, some laughing. Frisk was so enamored with her surroundings that she bombed into someone, making her drop all of her belongings.

"Watch where you're going, kid!" The man snapped, murmuring to his friends as he walked away.

Frisk began to collect her things when she heard a voice from behind her.

"Need some help?"

She turned around to a boy. His hair was thick, brown, quite messy. It was improper.But his eyes, stunning, chestnut eyes, they complimented the mess and made it... Perfect. He was more beautiful than any models on any magazines. He looked sincere. A grin swept across his face and she felt her stomach flutter.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her up.

"Yeesh, can you believe some people? Probably got in cuz his family's rich. Bet you didn't though. You skipped some grades didn't you? You look a little young for college?"

Now this was an understatement. She looked young for middle school. But he was so nice about it.

"Name's Jason. Second year here. Bio-engineering? You?"

"F-Frisk. Frisk Evergreen. First. I'm studying Psychology."

His smile got even wider.

"Woah, you mean, Evergreen Evergreen? Like the billionaires? That's crazy!"

Jason grabbed her biggest suitcase and asked, "Where's your room? A lady like you shouldn't have to lug this around considering how small ya look."

"Oh, uhh. Thank you. I'm supposed to be in the last room down the first year hall? Though I have no idea where that would be. I was planning on asking for directions but-"

"No need. I know exactly where you're talking about.

Jason said, "Follow me!"

He grabbed her hand and Frisk stared at him. Full of life. Energy. Happiness.

This was why people died for each other.

Love.

…

It wasn't long before Frisk and Jason had begun to date. He was only a year older than her, much to his surprise.

Frisk, for the first time, was happy. Jason was a total sweetie and jokester. He didn't even care that her parents were rich.

He never asked for money or favors. If anything, he was always offering to help her with something.

And Frisk would always try to repay the kindness. Whether baking him cookies or helping him study for an exam, she was never too busy for Jason.

Anyone who saw them together would say they were a match made in heaven.

But looks can be deceiving.

Mr. Evergreen had made sure that Frisk got an entire room to herself.

Maybe if it weren't her father, that would seem gracious, if not a little suspicious. But this was her father. And he didn't want anyone else to know how old she was. Frisk was personally glad her father stopped paying so much attention to her. Being alone was better than being near him. Unfortunately for him, the secret was already out of the bag unfortunately when Jason and she began to date. While she hated the gesture, Frisk couldn't deny it was useful.

Her habits were hard to control. It had only become aggravated by the amount of people. Especially around Jason.

The dark, dark thoughts were so strong with him, barely blocked out by the joy he brought her.

And while she was able to find distractions in her engineering club, it was never enough.

Frisk had taken to a habit of cutting. Not herself, of course, but…

Who would miss a tiny squirrel?

She sure wouldn't notice. And no one really did.

See? This was fine.

Until it wasn't.

Something Frisk discovered on that day was that the more she gave in to the urges, the harder they became to suppress. The need to kill. To feel blood drip down her hands, sticking to her fingers. To hear to wails of the pitiful creatures in her grasp. To be in control.

She was going to spend Fall break with Jason at his apartment. He didn't live on campus and Frisk didn't want to return home so soon.

The cool breeze struck Frisk and she giggled.

"Well now. What's so funny?"

"I just can't believe what life would be like without you? I don't know how I lived before I met you."

Jason laughed, "Woah there. Slow down on the app. Wait til we get to my apartment building before you confess your undying love."

Frisk strolled down the sidewalk, one hand firmly gripping Jason's arm. Her long dark brown hair swaying in the wind. It was the pride of her father and Frisk had enough sense to not cut it.

Eventually they got to his place. Frisk unpacked, setting up arrangements. After that was all over, they snuggled in to watch a movie.

Jason had chosen a horror movie. Partly because it fit the spooky season and so he could comfort her when she got scared. At least, that's what he told her. It followed a girl being possessed by the ghost of her dead grandmother who went missing five years ago. The twist was that the girl was the one who killed her grandma.

The jump scares weren't really scary but she pretended to be scared so Jason could hug her tighter.

The movie itself wasn't very good but she enjoyed the night nonetheless.

The night grew darker and it was time to hit the hay. After discussion, both of them decided they just weren't ready for that kind of a step. Two months just wasn't enough time. So Frisk slid down on the inflatable mattress, ready to sleep the night away.

But the feeling came back.

It slowly crept up her spine and poisoned her mind. She began to sweat with anxiety and anticipation. Frisk couldn't take it. She had to _cut_ something. She needed an escape.

Frisk snuck into the bathroom and ravished for a razor blade. She held it up to the mirror. It would hurt less than if she just ignored it.

The bathroom door and she heard Jason's, "God, no!"

Jason tackled Frisk, making her drop the blade to the floor.

Tests welled in her eyes and she began to cry. His warmth felt so good and yet so horribly, _horribly_ tempting. She began to sob into his shoulder.

It was so so _so_ bad.

"I-I can't do this…"

"I can't let you do this to yourself."

Jason loosened the hug, and stared into her eyes. His warm, soft, naive eyes.

"What can I do to make it better?"

Frisk shook her head, "I-I can't do that to you, I-"

Jason brushed tears from Frisk's cheeks.

"What can I do to make it better?"

…

Spring fell upon Harvard soon enough. It had been months since they started.

It happened very little.

But it felt so _so_ good.

Sometimes it scared her how much she liked it. Cutting into human flesh. Cutting only a little, just enough to get a whimper.

Something changed that night, in the bathroom. Jason wasn't as laid back and happy go lucky. That part of him, kinda faded. Frisk and him still enjoyed each other's company but…

His eyes told a different story.

He was scared of her.

He feared her.

Frisk didn't know how to feel about this. A part of her loved to idea of having complete control over someone. Choosing how they act, behave, and where they go. Things she could easily manipulated.

But a part of her wanted him to love her without threats or fear. She wanted him to love her, want her, _need her._ Just like she did. She wanted something real.

Frisk decided not to isolate him. Let him have his friends and his space.

But his heart?

That was hers.

Only way to seal the deal though…

Oh, and he won't say no…

He'll say I do.

…

The flowers were exceptionally beautiful. Buttercups blooming in early spring. The garden was full of life and gorgeous plants. Frisk had loved their family's garden. The only place outside she could escape her father's looming eyes. And it looked directly upward at the towering Mount Ebbot. It was stunning, really. That was one of the reasons their house was built there.

It was the perfect place for a wedding. The entire backyard was decorated head to toe in drapery, lights, bows and other fine linen. The chairs were neatly in place. The giant dining hall was filled with large tables, rows of food and pastries, and a large double decker cake.

Frisk's dress was handsewn from Chinese silk tailored for her size. She loved every inch of it. From its fluffy sleeves to its long train. Her veil was held up by a perfectly crafted flower crown made of diamonds and gold.

Her father had spared no expenses.

He was eager to get her out of the house.

But the best part was that today, she would be forever bonded with Jason. She was going to get married and spend the rest of her life with her soulmate. She was so _so_ happy. She would almost say her soul was on fire.

But… there weren't such things as souls.

Even so, nothing would ruin this day.

At least, that's what she thought.

It all went downhill when Frisk walked down the aisle and Jason wasn't there. Everyone was shocked, most likely under the assumption that it wasn't ready to start yet. Especially her father.

Mr. Evergreen was enraged. Yelling things like, "THE NERVE!" or "such disrespect!".

But Frisk couldn't hear anything. She stared at the vacant spot Next to the priest and his friends.

Without a word, Frisk walked back inside.

The crowd followed her, one by one, all filing into the mansion's dining hall.

Why would he…?

But he loved…

It was _him_. She stared at the crowd of people, picking out her father from the crowd.

He was stealing her happiness away from her _again._

 _He_ said something.

 _He_ changed his mind.

 _He,_ no- _they_ are to blame.

 _They_ were the guilty.

…

Frisk climbed the stairs to the attic. She had told everyone to wait downstairs. She had told them she'd fix it.

And she would.

She opened the door to the dusty old attic, covered in spider webs and dust. There were tons of boxes in here, and one that she knew well.

Frisk opened the cardboard box and gently picked up the revolver. She wiped the dust of it and walked down the stairs, stopping by the kitchen on the way.

When she entered the dining hall, everything hushed. No one spoke a single word.

Frisk hid the weapons in her bouquet. She locked the door behind her. She walked to the grand doors to the garden and locked them. She turned to the crowd, silence thickening everything.

Then she pulled out the gun and shot.

The entire room began to scream. Frisk shot again, aiming for the legs. She spared no one. She reloaded, darking anyone to come near her until the only ones left were the wounded. And she let loose. She jabbed her knife into anyone she saw, hearing their dreams and pleads for mercy, but not listening.

Children cried, mothers wailed and fathers begged.

Food, wine and table cloths went everywhere. The golden walls and floor were tainted with blood and echoing with misery

But she didn't care. They were keeping her from her happy ending. They were not innocent.

When it was all over, there was only one left. Her father. He hid in a corner, clutching his wound.

Pathetic.

She yanked him down to the floor, sitting on top of his injured leg. Frisk looked around and grabbed at unopened champagne bottle. She smashed it against his head spilling the contents all over his face. He gagged and coughed. He cried and begged for mercy. He was weak. Why had she been so scared of him?

Frisk grabbed her neat, long hair and hacked at it with her knife. She stared down at her father. She giggled and smiled as she plunged her knife straight into his chest and watched the life drain from his eyes.

The wolf that had scared her for so long was dead.

But he wasn't important. Jason was.

…

She hid rid herself on the bloodstained dress before she went searching for him. She looked in every room, closet and cranny of the house until he came upon the one locked door.

Frisk knocked gently.

There was no answer.

"Hey honey. I think we're gonna elope, huh? Might have to change our names too…"

Still no answer,

"Whatever they said to change you, it doesn't matter. They're gone."

Nothing.

"Baby, please talk to me. Did I scare you? Is that what's wrong?"

Silence.

"Open the door."

 _Nothing._

"I said open the door!"

Frisk thrust all her force onto the door and it gave it enough to let her pry her way in.

Frisk's soul cracked as she stared at Jason's hanging body. The crude note left on the floor. She took a step back, gaping at-

OH GOD.

Tears pierced her eyes and she ran away sobbing.

No.

No…

no… please no…

She jerked outside, running… somewhere she couldn't tell. The world was blurry but she had to get away from that picture. Her life was all wrong. She ran, tripping over weeds and branches until she finally gave in. She sobbed and crumpled to the floor.

He can't be…

Jason can't be… gone?

Frisk finally looked up at her surroundings. She was in what seemed like the beginnings of a cave.

She was on Mount Ebbot.

Where those who climb never return.

Frisk stared at the hole in front of her.

This was her escape.

This was her way to happiness.

To Jason


	17. YOU

p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; text-align: center; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Trigger Warning: Sexual Abuse. If you are sensitive to this particular topic then you may skip. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Sans sat on the bed, trying to ignore the ever-increasing stress induced headache. Which was basically impossible considering it was the only thing to focus on. Other than the fact that he was trapped with a mentally unstable murderer./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"So it was just the perfect start to a day. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Ironically, suffocating was the worst pain he'd ever felt. It was slow and bitter. Apparently, whatever he tied hadn't worked well, so he kinda just hung there until his soul caved. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"While death wasn't fun, the fact that it was usually over quickly was comforting. But it just dragged on and on. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Serves him right. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Being kidnapped was hellishly boring, forcing himself to spend hours in his mind; which wasn't kind. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Sans still could barely tell where they were. It had to be a laboratory, considering how empty and forgotten it was./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Not to mention all the medical equipment. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"But where exactly? Was there some sort of secret lab monsters didn't know about? How had Alphys never found it? /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Unless she already knew? /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Thoughts in his mind became a jumbled mess of contradicting facts./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"So Sans was conflicted when Frisk interrupted his self torture./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"The minute he laid eyes on her, he knew there was something different. Her childish demeanor was extremely forced and she wouldn't look at him, focusing intently on dents in the wall./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""heya, spawn of satan."/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Ha ha. Very funny," Frisk's voice was bitter and sharp. But she didn't seem angry. More like she was suppressing something. And whatever it was, it was strong. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""I need to tell you something…"/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""well isn't that the vaguest phrase of the century. just spill it."/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"She hopped over to his bed, making his skin crawl. "Ohh, I will. Just not right now. First, I have to do something!"/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Frisk giggled and her hands on the bed, rubbing it gently. Which was weird as it wasn't very soft…/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Close your eyes, will ya?"/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Sans looked at her with a questioning glare. What was she planning?/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""uhhh, why?"/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""/spanspan style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Close your eyes/spanspan style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"."/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""yeesh, alright. chill now will ya?"/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Sans closed his eyes, seeing how arguing with Frisk is kinda like making a death neither of those were new to him./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Now, Sansy. I need you to not freak out, okay? I'm gonna place a wet rag on your mouth and you're not gonna freak out, okay?"/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Her voice was bubbly, almost like a child at a theme park. It was sickeningly disturbing how happy and excited she was about everything. Especially when she shouldn't be./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"But this… this was a different kind of excitement. It seemed almost perverted. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"But, even if a genocidal one, Frisk was a kid. So, it can't be /spanspan style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"that/spanspan style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;" bad. At least, there's nothing he's not used to by now./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""get on with it sicko…"/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Sans felt her gently place the rag. It surprisingly didn't smell poisonous. In fact… it kinda smelt a little sweet. Tasted like that too. Was it some sort of poison? All he knew was that whatever she was doing to him was making him exhausted. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"And, eventually, Sans fell asleep somewhat peacefully for the first time in two weeks./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"But waking up wasn't as fun. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Sans head throbbed slightly and his back arched. He had been sleeping in the sitting position and his spine had a /spanspan style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"bone/spanspan style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;" to pick with him./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Sans felt spread across the bed because he kinda was. He felt the rope against around both of his hands, tied to each side of the bed. It had been fashioned with the explicit purpose to make sure he didn't move./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"But she already had a place for this sort of twisted /spanspan style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"crap/spanspan style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;". What's the point? An awful thought came to mind. But that'd be ridiculous./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Fortunately, his legs were free so he didn't have to worry about his kneecaps killing him later./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"He couldn't see Frisk which was /spanspan style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #3c4043; background-color: #ffffff; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"concerning, but only slightly. The most disturbing thing in the room were the thoughts he was trying very hard to ignore. And, ultimately, failing. Frisk had been acting an even more disturbing weird and it was getting to him./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""uhhh, heeey?"/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""You know, I was engaged once…" it came from the front of the bed./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"What?/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""In fact, we got the wedding day. I walked down the aisle. But… well let's just say no one got married that day."/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""hey, are you- are you joking?"/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""His name was Jason. He was...perfect."/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"What is she talking about?/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""He's also dead."/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Sans stood perfectly still, trying to process what she was telling him. She'd been engaged? But… Frisk is a kid. SHE'S A KID. She can't have been engaged. And what does she mean dead? Was it betrothal? /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"No, she said she /spanspan style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"almost/spanspan style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;" got married…/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Gor, she can't be…/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"She can't be older than…/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""why are you even telling me this? even if what you're saying is true, what does any of that have to do with me?"/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""/spanspan style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Are you that idoitic?!/spanspan style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"" She jerked up from her hiding spot and turned around at him. She was visibly shaking. But she didn't look mad. Irritated, maybe. How confusing was this kid?/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""I know I don't look the part but one can't help when life doesn't go their way. I didn't choose to be this /spanspan style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"small/spanspan style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;". I assume you understand."/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Frisk got her there. Sans had always been smaller than, well, anyone. But his voice got deeper. He didn't look young, especially not with the bags under his eyes./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"She did./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Frisk softened, loosening whatever tension she had forced against herself. She let herself shrink down to the floor and let arms sprawl across the foot of the bed./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""You remind me of him."/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"This got his attention. Remind him of a fiancee. The thought returned, overstating its welcome and poisoning his mind. A chill went down his spine as she got closer./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Maybe it's the voice…"/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Frisk climbed onto the bed, her intentions so glaringly clear. Sans became so acutely aware of how little clothes he was wearing./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""k-kid-"/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Maybe the smile…" Frisk climbed closer, her eyes hungry and her smile devilish. Fear pricked at his SouL, his panic slowly rising. Sans yanked at the ropes, his legs thrashing, trying to get away./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""i-i said back off!"/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"He tried to look stronger, less weak. Bit that was impossible while tied to a bed frame. If he can't look scary, he can sound like it. But that took wasn't working. Hard to be intimidating when you yourself are terrified. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Frisk crawled up, her face too close for comfort, the rest of her, barely behind. She touched his face with her hand. Her skin felt like fire, making him wince. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Or maybe it your…"/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""get away from me-" he breathed, shutting down as she leaned into his neck./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Blood," she breathed heavily, leaving a hot moisture. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"He felt her grab hold of his ribcage and thrashed into a kiss. Frisk fingers tapped the bone, trailing down farther than it should./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Her force was terrifying. Every part of his body shook with terror and panic. He couldn't think straight. He couldn't /spanspan style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"think./spanspan style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;" /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Sans shook his limbs, trying desperately to get her off of him. But Frisk didn't seem to notice, her eyes still closed. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Finally, she ended the kiss, giggling./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;" She wasn't done./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Gor/spanspan style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;", she wasn't done!/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Sans screamed for help./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"For someone./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Anyone./spanspan id="docs-internal-guid-d9353073-7fff-4bca-76b2-e18ae16b9157"/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"But nobody came./span/p 


	18. Finally Broken

The first day after, he barely said anything. He was extremely quiet and didn't make eye contact with her. It was kinda weird seeing him silent since he _always_ had _something_ to say. It was almost scary. He froze up whenever she tried to go near him. Even worse, his breathing went crazy and he looked _scared._ What did he have to complain about? She'd given him everything.

It was irritating.

Out of the kindness of her heart, she'd left him alone for a day. That didn't seem to make anything better, though.

It was her own fault, she'd admit it. She let herself lose control so she'd just have to deal with the consequences. Sans was extremely temperamental. Frisk needed to be careful or she could do more damage than she intended.

Just like a sculptor, you can't chip the block too hard.

Then again, she can't go soft. He needs to know who's in control.

She swung his door open, banging against the wall. It sounded like a rock being thrown onto a stone floor. He didn't jump this time, which was surprising. But he didn't look at her. GOD, was he always gonna act like this?!

"Sansy~ I need you to look at me."

"...would you shut up?"

If Frisk didn't know him so well, she might've thought it was because he didn't think he'd get punished. No, he knew he would. He was too stubborn to care. That was the one thing she didn't like about him. He was always fighting.

Even if he said he didn't care.

Even if said he gave up.

She knew he hadn't. That's why he kept fighting. That's why he forgave her. And Frisk was getting quite tired of it. After e _verything_ she did to him, he wasn't willing to quit. To give himself up.

Well, if he wanted to keep fighting, he'd get to.

"Ya know, I'm getting pretty _tired_ of this timeline. How about we shake it up?"

"...what do you want?"

"Well if you wanna keep fighting, then how about we fight for a reason."

Still more _silence._

"I'm sure you'll remember this."

…

Sans opened his eyes, tears streaming out. He sobbed gently into his pillow, trying desperately to silence it. He started to laugh softly. This was so _so_ funny. No matter what he did, he wasn't ever thrown a bone. It ever got better, no matter what he told himself. It was like the universe was out to get him.

And he deserves it. He could've tried to save his brother but he didn't. He let him die. He might as well just stabbed Papyrus.

He was just an issue.

A burden.

All he could do was ruin his brother's life.

He was worthless to everyone except the person he hated the most.

It was cruelest joke he'd ever heard.

Time ticked by, slower and slower.

As much as Sans just wanted to sleep in his own bed, in his own room, without the fear of being stabbed awake, he couldn't.

He didn't deserve it.

So he just had to wait. Wait for it to happen again.

And again…

And _again_ …

…

"BROTHER! GET READY! WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE!"

Papyrus tapped his boot impatiently. He had a good feeling about today. Something in the back of his mind felt like he'd been here before. Of course, it was only a feeling, but it gave him no comfort.

Papyrus was a little surprised when Sans answered immediately. He for sure thought that his brother would still be asleep. But, by the looks of it, he'd been up for hours. It sorta worried him. Maybe it was because he's never up early or maybe it was because he was up _that_ early. Either way, it was unervering to say the least.

"ready when you are, bro."

"OH! GREAT! I HAVE A FEELING THAT WE MIGHT FIND A HUMAN TODAY!"

"heh, maybe."

"Sans, are you okay?"

"M'fine"

That nagging feeling in the back of Papyrus's brain was there again. Somehow, it felt like every piece of dialog was the same. Like he had said those exact words before. It was weirding him out. But nothing was going to ruin today. After all, it was a better start to a day than it usually was.

Papyrus raced down the stairs and flung the door open. It was never too early for a dramatic entrance. Surprisingly, Sans was right behind him. Which was sorta weird since he hadn't heard anything. It felt distantly familiar. Like everything else.

Snowdin was quite cheerful this morning. Everyone was happy and friendly. It wasn't as cold either. Snow drifted down as the brothers trekked to their stands. Sans shuffled through the snow, obviously not in a rush to get to work.

"PICK UP THE PACE BROTHER! I DON'T WANT TO BE LATE!"

"sorry bro. just a little tired."

"I DID NOTICE YOU WERE UP EARLIER THAN USUAL." Papyrus said, glancing back at his brother, waiting for a reply.

He didn't get one.

Which was weird.

It felt like he should have…

"heya paps, promise me somethin'?"

"OF COURSE BROTHER!" What was this about?

Sans stopped. He looked down at the snow, like he wanted to say something, but was restraining in fear of consequences. But what consequences? What did he want to say?

"eh. nevermind…"

"OH. OK.

…

Sans waited. Gor, he didn't wanna see her. Definitely didn't want to TOUCH her. But he really didn't wanna know what she'd do if he broke script. It still wouldn't make it any easier.

The forest was quiet, for the most part. It was almost calming. The entire forest existed in a state of constant snow. Sans had gotten used to the weather. It really didn't bother him that much since he didn't really _feel_ the cold.

He heard the door open and close. It was time. Sans watched as she walked past the branches. Sans popped up behind her, snapping the branch clean in half. Sans had snapped it so many times, he couldn't say he took any pleasure from it anymore. Frisk didn't jump anymore, not that he expected her to.

"human. don't you know to greet an old-"

"Oh, sansy~. Don't try to be so intimidating. I hear the tremble in your voice,"

Welp, at least he didn't have to finish _that_ line.

"Honestly, I couldn't care less if you dropped the whole _routine_. It might actually be a bit refreshing. Of course, don't go overboard, mind you? I want this to hurt as much as it always does."

Frisk walked away leaving Sans in the snow, holding out his hand. _Star_ s, she was right.

He was scared of her.

…

Papyrus was an idiot. But Frisk didn't mind. He was loveably dumb. Childlike. Of course, he could get annoying but everyone can. But sometimes, he's just plain silly. Mostly when she kills him. While it isn't the most satisfying kill, it's definitely one of her favorites. Something about the look on his face as his body crumbles into dust is priceless.

'I believe in you' Ha! It was ridiculous!

But she did appreciate the sentiment.

Frisk had almost forgotten how relieving the Genocide run was. Not morals, no restrictions, no _mercy_. It was great to let go sometimes. To kill was a pleasure she enjoyed far too much. She'd have to calm it down.

Then again, this may be the last time.

So she might as well enjoy it.

Monster Kid was saying something but she really wasn't paying attention. She'd sorta zoned out. Waterfall was nice to look at, she'd admit. But she was ready for Undyne the Undying. It was her second favorite kill. Undyne fought with passion and Determination. She wasn't just fighting for survival, she was fighting for everyone. And naturally, she was _very_ hard to beat.

But Frisk could. And she was all too ready to sharpen her skills.

Frisk was itching to kill.

…

Flowey waited in New Home. She knew that she'd come here. She'd have to. And maybe, apparently, he'd been here before. It was weird and somewhat chilling to think that there are things he can't remember. Timelines he'd experienced were now lost forever. A murderer walking free.

She'd chosen Genocide. He wasn't surprised, given her previous actions. In fact, Flowey would have been shocked if she hadn't.

A part of him still wanted to believe it was Chara. Then he could reason with her. He had leeway. He has a chance to live.

But that wasn't Chara. It may be Chara's SouL he sees but that isn't Chara. That was Frisk. The Frisk who was in complete control over her actions. The Frisk who chose who lived or who died. The one in control of everything. Maybe she was always in control.

Flowey jumped as she heard Frisk approaching. She held a knife glistening with blood. She also had a modest amount of blood and dust on her. He was about to speak when she passed right by him. She barely even noticed him. She looked eager, almost grinning.

Flowey followed Frisk, trying to say something but she ignored him. They got to the balcony Flwoey had seen so many times. It overlooked the entire city.

"FRISK! LOOK AT ME, WILL YOU!?"

She jerked around to look at Flowey.

"Y-you… You've still got to fight me."

Frisk looked shocked, like she hadn't expected the offer.

"Oh. Wow. I wasn't expecting that. I'd love to fight you. I never did get the chance, did I?"

Okay. So he's never done this in any other timeline before. Good to note.

"W-well? You in?" Flowey said, trying to mask his fear.

Frisk grinned. Flowey stared at it. It was awful. It said so many things but nothing at the same time. The face of a wolf. Her black eyes hungry. Lustful.

What did he get himself into?

Flowey was the first to move. He surrounded her in friendliness pellets. They weren't very strong but literally no one starts off with their strongest move. Besides, he needed to take his time. He'd fought her once before but that was when he was Omega Flowey. And even then, she had beaten him.

Why was he even doing this? He wasn't going to win so-

Frisk plunged her knife directly at Flowey. He shrank away, desperately trying to avoid her blows. She'd barely waited seconds after he moved. So that's the kind of person he was fighting. Didn't wait huh?

Flowey stretched out his vines, snagging Frisk's legs. She fell, slamming down onto the floor. Frisk yelled in frustration and cut at the vines on her legs. Flowey winced slightly at the cutting but was able to hit her on the back with another vine.

Frisk eyes widened and she coughed up a bit of blood before whipping around and tearing through several vines at once. Flowey jerked back. The attack had taken a reasonable amount of damage.

Frisk dodged another round of pellets but tripped on a vine Flowey had suck past her defences. She fell onto the ground Flowey took this opportunity to strike her against her back again. This time with thorns.

Apparently, he had punctured flesh, because blood poured out of her chest. She gasped, breathing for air.

And died.

The world reloaded. She'd died so fast. Flowey sighed. Maybe this wouldn't be as hard as he thought.

Frisk charged at Flowey, swinging her knife at him. He got ready to trip her again. But, to his surprise, she jumped. Frisk used her momentum in jab her knife directly at the root of one of his larger vines. It split off and Flowey gasped in pain. Flowey retreated back and hit her with pellets again. Again and again. When he finally stopped, her body fell to the floor.

Reload.

Reload.

Reload.

Reload…

This was tiring. Flowey wondered if this was what Trashbag felt like when they fought. Beating the other, only to have to do it again. Doing something new every time just to not die. Only to run out anyway.

Flowey felt the knife pierce into him again, watching as his Hp plumated. He was… dying.

He wondered what it would be like. Dying. What would happen to him? His curiosity had never outweighed his fear so he never let himself die.

Odd…

"Well, this fun. But I really have to get moving. I can't keep him waiting forever."

"Soo, you really wanna fight Asgore, huh?"

Frisk turned back to him. Or maybe she was always facing him? He couldn't tell. Everything was blurry and spinning.

"I guess you wouldn't know. I'll see you next run!"

Gor, this was weird. Almost scary…

Flowey wondered who she was talking about…

Guess he'd find out soon.

…

Judgement Hall was beautiful, anyone could tell you that. Its giant arched piers and the wide open glass windows left the room with a glittering effect, illuminating everything inside. Honestly, Sans would like it too if this wasn't the place he had died so many times.

He hated stepping in here. Even if it was for the Pacifist Run. His imagination kept conjuring up the memories of blood, murder, and the pain.

The pain of losing Papyrus.

And with that…

ANGER.

He'd wait for the kid, wait for the miserable little thing to show up. He knew it wouldn't take long.

After all, she was here for him.

But Sans wasn't going down that easily.

Stars, he was tired. His bones were almost shaking. Sleeping was a thing he should've done.

Eh? He'd done this before. This wasn't about who was better at fighting but more of a test of endurance. Gor, he was NOT looking forward to his first move.

Frisk walked into the Hallway, her steps echoing with the sound of dread. Her eye were wide open and she had a gleaming face. She was disgusting, as usual.

Although, he did notice scrape marks and scratches. Looks like she'd just been fighting. Which was weird, since she never had those before. Still a bonus though.

Frisk stopped at halfway through and looked directly at Sans.

He returned the glare.

"Hey Sansy, tiny change of plans. This time, I want you to fight me. I want you to REALLY fight me. Don't repeat. Fight me like you mean it."

"heh. was planning to."

Frisk smiled sweetly, that sicko, and stepped over that invisible little line. Which she was already past by now.

The sound of several Gaster blasters firing echoed through the hallway. There weren't as many since she apparently did want the same old fight again and he wants really in the shape to pull off something like that.

Frisk ripped the knife at his chest and Sans barely missed it. He sent a spiral of bones, white and blue, and actually hit her.

Not that it did much.

Frisk countered with another swipe, this time directed toward his side.

Sans jerked back from the slice and blasted her. He closed his eyes as he heard her body thud.

Gor, he hated that sound.

It took only several minutes for her to reload. Sans was still whirling seconds after. It was more disorienting than short cuts and, honestly, they could be pretty bad.

Frisk charged at him, Sans skidding to the side and fired off a Gaster blaster. This time, Frisk barely dogged it. Sans fired a barrage of bones in her direction. Sans wondered if he _was_ repeating himself.

He truly couldn't tell and really didn't care. It _seemed_ to be working but then again, she could always just be toying with him.

Sans couldn't tell anymore. He didn't know what threat was real, which one wasn't. Which is pretty ironic considering that had been his entire job.

Frisk was hurt but didn't really act like it. She was at half of her HP but grinning like a hyena. Sans didn't understand how she could do that. Personally, fighting was exhausting, especially when you're fighting for your life. Although, she wasn't fighting for her life. She couldn't stay dead.

It went over and over, each trading blows, Frisk getting hit, Sans almost. It went over and over. Sans was so _so_ tired. He couldn't stop trembling, he felt like he was going to collapse.

Apparently, she noticed. Hell, he shouldn't be surprised. She sees _everything_.

Frisk lunged at Sans, aiming at his chest.

Welp, this was gonna hurt. This was gonna suck.

Frisk was propelled back smashing directly into a pillar. Her soul blue.

Sans dropped her, and stepped back. Crap. Frisk needed to be dead or it was game over. Sans stared at the unmoving body, scanning for any signs of life.

Nothing.

Good, it wasn't over yet. Gor, he needed to sit down. Sans plopped down onto the stone floor and took a deep breath.

Just ignore the blood.

Ignore the body.

You're alone.

 _You're always alone_.

Sans felt the reload before he saw it. Frisk stood at the line, waiting.

"just get on with it."

"You're exhausted, Sans."

"thank you for stating the obvious, i wouldn't have noticed otherwise."

"WOULD YOU STOP FIGHTING?! Would you just _finally_ give up?! You aren't going to win!"

Frisk shook violently, before she calmed down, "Sans, I can do this as long as I need to. I can keep doing this run until you have had enough and beg me for mercy. I'll do whatever it takes, however long it takes."

"I can break my every bone in your body," Frisk grinned, "I can hurt you like no one else can."

"Cut your losses."

"We can end this right now."

"All you have to do…"

"Is give up."

"i am still standing…" Sans said, his voice quivering, shaking violently.

"i am still standing!"

Sans felt the fiery intensity of blade cutting bone. Sans choked on blood. When? Where? When did she move?! How did he not notice?! Was she holding him…?

Heh.

Sans stared at face he _hated_ more than anything. Gor, she was right.

He couldn't do this anymore.

This wasn't working.

He…

Sans shouldn't be selfish.

This is the only way that Frisk won't hurt anyone. Just let her hurt him.

Stars, he can't believe what he was about to say.

"kay. i give up."

He really was a horrible monster.

The End


End file.
